Monet's Pond
by Catlorde
Summary: Things in Monet's past have never really added up, and she's always after the truth. But after being abducted by a man in a bow tie and a Roman soldier, she learns that sometimes ignorance is bliss, especially when the truth is complicated beyond belief.
1. Centurion in the Hallway

**Chapter One: Centurian in the Hallway**

 _Main thenes_ … No.

 _Mian themes…_ I prodded the backspace in annoyance.

 _Main Themes of The Age of Innocence._ Enter.

I glowered at the screen in exasperation while my english teacher rambled on. Something about the family tree of the main characters in the book. She was even drawing it out on the board, making the dry erase marker squeak as she etched a line from 'Mrs. Henry Van der Luyden' to someone with the last name 'Welland', the first name being little more than a squiggle. Her handwriting needed work.

My best friend, Penny, glanced over at me, her face mirroring the same boredom that I felt. It's not that we hate english; and Mrs. Pierce is actually a good teacher; but she was a little over obsessed with _The Age of Innocence,_ honing in on the family drama in the book while Penny and I couldn't get past the sexism and hypocritical assholery of the main character. I know that the family dynamic and social commentary is important. But come on. Focus on something else.

"We have to write a essay on this shit", Penny mouthed, making sure to subtly block her mouth so Mrs. Pierce couldn't see.

"Three weeks and one semester left" I mouthed back, not looking up. "Don't lose hope now".

I tugged at my pants leg, which had ridden up slightly when I shifted in my seat, tucking my left leg under me and leaning forward slightly. I was wearing my typical outfit, which consisted of high-waisted 'pedal pushers' and a long sleeved button up shirt. My neighbor, old Mrs. Alani, loved to gush about how I dressed like she did in the late 1950's and 60's. Penny never wastes an opportunity to tell me how uncomfortable my clothes look. Well, she would think that; from her tennis shoes- jeans-Tshirt- athletic jacket combo, everything else is uncomfortable. Whatever. I ran my fingers through my brown-blond hair, rearranging the large loopy curls before letting them fall back to my shoulders. I was perfectly comfortable in my clothes, the fabric being light and loose.

I looked back over to Penny, who had started doodling on a piece of paper. She had a smudge of graphite from the pencil on her cheek. Someone should probably tell her.

Just as I leaned over to get her attention, there was a hesitant knock at the door. Before my teacher could tell them to come in, the door was cautiously opened by a man with light eyes and a rather large nose. But the most interesting feature wasn't his face, but his choice of clothes. If I dressed a bit out of date, then this man DEFINITELY did. I came out of a 1950's clothing catalogue, but he looked ready to walk back INTO a history book, dressed as a Roman soldier.

"Umm… I'm sorry but…", he started in a British accent, which sounded extremely out of place in Virginia, while his eyes flickered around the room uncomfortably. "Do you have a Monet English?" His eyes settled on me briefly before darting back to my teacher. "Can I borrow her for a minute?"

I exchanged a confused look with Mrs. Pierce as I stood to carefully pick my way around bookbags and other students' legs to make my way to the Roman, who ducked out of the door as soon as he saw that I meant to follow him. I went out into the hallway and shut the door behind me.

The Roman was already halfway down the hallway and being confronted by another man, who was thin and lanky with a large chin and a bowtie.

"I managed to get the TARDIS turned right. It isn't facing the wall anymore, we can get in now. What is it? Did you find her?" The bow tie man didn't wait for an answer. I saw his eyes shift past the Roman to land on me before he broke into a large grin. "Monet!"

The man bounded over to me and, seeing that there was no one else in the hall, grabbed my face and kissed me deeply. I was too shocked to respond immediately and didn't offer any resistance until he took my wrist and began dragging me down toward where the Roman had vanished, talking all the way.

"Sorry to pull you out of class, but we've got to help Amy and I couldn't waste time re-landing to when you're between classes… Vastra and Strax are on board, so you can imagine how antsy they're getting…"

I snapped back to my senses and began to struggle. "Hey! What the hell! Stop it! Let go of me!"

The man let go of my wrist and gave me a confused look. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

He searched my face as I fumbled for words, not even knowing where to start. I was about to say something when it dawned on him. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

I blinked and shook my head. "No. I don't. So what the hell was that?" I felt anger bubbling up in my chest. "And you the hell do you think you are? Dragging me out of class to…".

The man silenced me with a shake of his head. "Sorry. I didn't realize it was so early…". I watched his face shift from sad, to concerned, to amused, all in the span of a second. "But I guess there is a first time for everything". He beamed at me and snatched by hand up again to continue dragging me down the hall. "Sorry, I know this is a bit of a shock… but you'll understand everything soon. I'm the Doctor… and that's Rory. RORY!"

The Roman soldier popped his head around the doorframe of the custodian's closet at the sound of his name. "What?"

"There has been a complication", the Doctor explained, still hauling me toward the closet. I tried to pull away, but he was alot stronger than his gangly looks suggested. "But I am afraid that we'll have to work with it".

Rory sighed as he walked over to grab my other arm. "You've got it wrong haven't you? She has no idea who we are?"

"Well, not WRONG, just a bit of a surprize. This was always going to happen eventually, I just had no idea when".

"Well YOU get to explain it to her," Rory said as they wrestled me into the closet. "I'm tired of being the one that always has to explain everything… just because you and Amy say I'm 'the newest'...".

"Don't worry, Rory. I've been waiting on this one for a very long time".

Once in the closet I could see what they were trying to get me to. A large blue box perched crookedly in the corner amid a pile of toppled brooms and buckets.

"What the hell is that? I'm not going in there! No way…!"

My protests were cut short when Rory the Roman opened the door of the blue box and the Doctor two-handedly shoved me inside. I stumbled through the doorway, swearing, and the two men followed, closing the door behind them.

My vulgar commentary trailed off as I gazed around the room. It was huge; a gigantic room crammed inside a box inside a broom closet. The light was warm and bright, mostly emanating from a console up some stairs in the center of the room. There were some voices and movements up around the console, but I wasn't ready to deal with them yet. Rory walked past me and up the stairs. The Doctor came up beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

"It's called the TARDIS", he said. "It's a time machine. You and I spend a great deal of time here. Have lots of adventures. Lots of laughs. Good days and bad days, alike. But what do you think? Any passing remarks?"

I gave a sideways glance his smiling face, and after a moment's consideration, cried: "What the fuck?"

The Doctor looked slightly disappointed and took his arm off my shoulders.

"Oh, well, not really sure what I expected. Though I'd almost forgotten how you could swear. Anyway, come and meet your friends".

The Doctor grabbed my hand and led me to the stairs to where Rory was peering down at us, but now he was accompanied by two women.

"What's wrong with Monet?" One of the women asked.

"The Doctor got the time line a bit wrong", Rory answered. "It's her first time".

"Well this should be very interesting", the second woman responded as the Doctor and I reached the top of the stairs. I was stunned to see that she was alarmingly scaly and green.

"Wha- she's green..", I stammered, looking at the woman with wide eyes.

The green lady let out a hissing laugh. "I am Madame Vastra. A lizard lady from the dawn of time. And this is Jenny". She gestured to the other woman, who at least seemed human.

"Nice to meet ya", Jenny said, smiling.

"Bringing aboard a civilian presents an extreme tactical disadvantage," said another voice. A rather large armoured potato-man that I hadn't noticed emerged from around the console.

The Doctor looked up from where he was purposefully pushing buttons. "Monet, that's Strax. And don't worry. She'll be fine". He smiled at me before he was running about the console, pulling levers. The console roared to life, and what had simply seemed as a bizarre room was suddenly heaving and breathing like a giant beast. I was flung into the railing, where I held on desperately. A look around told me that everyone, excluding the Doctor, was doing the same.

When the room stopped shaking the Doctor bounded to the door and flung it open to disappear outside. Although I couldn't see anything, the dismayed voice of a man wafted in. After a minute the Doctor hurried back in accompanied by a very fat man who, to my horror, was a bright shade of blue.

"I KNOW I said I owed you a favor, Doctor, but here? Now? FOR THIS?" The man whined. "Demons Run? The Headless Monks? All for the sake of a girl?"

"That 'girl' is my wife!" Rory snapped, his hand resting on his sword.

By this point I was feeling a little bit sick. Scratch that… very sick; and the Doctor must've seen it on my face, because suddenly he was leading me a short distance down one of the corridors and into a room that turned out to be a bathroom. He closed the door behind us and stood watching me while I leaned against the sink. I stood there for a moment before looking up, hands over my mouth, starting to panic.

"Hey. Hey. Hey", the Doctor murmured, closing the toilet seat lid and sitting me down on it. He knelt down in front of me. "I know this is a bit of a shock. Talk to me. What are you having the most trouble with?"

"I-", I stammered, and used the heel of my hand to rub at the space between my eyebrows. "I- What the hell is happening?"

The Doctor captured my free hand and held it in both of his. "Like I said, my name is the Doctor, and you're on the TARDIS, which is my ship. It can travel in both time and space", he explained in a soft voice. He gave a tired laugh. "In essence, you've been abducted by aliens. Though it isn't exactly like you'd imagine, all of that cornfield rubbish is usually nonsense".

"You're an alien?"

He nodded.

"What about the green lady?"

"Actually, no. But she's not human either. She's from Earth, just like you, but from a long long time ago. She's from an advanced race that existed when the dinosaurs did".

"And the blue man?"

"That's Dorium Maldovar. He IS an alien".

"He looks like the girl that ate the blueberry candy from Willy Wonka".

The Doctor laughed. "Yes, I suppose he does".

"The potato?"

He laughed again. "Alien".

"What exactly are you all trying to do?"

The Doctor brushed over my knuckles with his thumbs. "Our friend, Amy. She's been taken by some people. She's your friend too, or will be, from your perspective. She's Rory's wife, and she's pregnant. I've been calling in my debts across the universe to collect people to help".

"Why is Rory a Roman? Is he from ancient Rome?"

"Oh, no, he's not".

"Then why's he dressed like a Roman?"

"The outfit builds confidence, as well as it leaves an image".

"Okay, then". I let out a shuddering sigh. "What do you want me for? The potato… Strax… said it… I'm useless at this stuff. Aliens and time travel and… whatever else".

"Useless? No", he chuckled, "I don't think you've ever been useless. Even on your worst days, I've wanted you here".

"Why? I've never met you before, how do you know me?"

"You don't know me yet, but I know you. Time travelers, that's what we are. You and me. We- we are very close…". The Doctor sighed and brushed his lips across my hand.

"How are we close? This is ridiculous," I felt the anger rising again to mix with the confusion. "Why the hell should I believe anything you've got to say?"

"Monet Odelle English", he started softly, almost taking me by surprise. "Your parents are Clay Gavin English and Suzanne Kitty English. You live a ways outside of Washington D.C, because they both work at the Smithsonian. Your father at Natural History, and mother at the Art museum. That's where you got your name, because Claude Monet is her favorite artist. You prefer surrealism, but you're favorite Monet painting is the one of the waterlily pond, because it reminds you of that place in the woods, down behind your house, where the creek goes through that large thicket and widens out and slows down enough for a few waterlilies. Not even your parents know about that place, it's where you go to draw or have a think. But you showed it to me… that's where we first…"

The Doctor broke off and shook his head sadly. "Sorry… spoilers". He looked back up at me, staring into my face pleadingly. His eyes were green. "But the point is… I know you… and you mean a lot to me. You don't know me yet, but you will. And maybe someday I'll mean a lot to you, too… but right now… right now we need to save Amy, and the baby. I'll explain everything else after this is all over. But until then, I need you to be brave".

I stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, unsure of what to say. But he seemed to be waiting for an answer. "Okay… I guess…" I whispered uncertainly. "What do you want me to do?"

The Doctor looked relieved. "Right now? Just stay with Vastra and Jenny… they'll look after you".

He reached into the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a pale green wash cloth, which he wet under the faucet before passing it to me. I stood and looked into the mirror, and my face looked back at me, makeup smeared and dark under my eyes. I hadn't realized I'd been crying. The Doctor hovered behind me while I wiped away the smears, a hand on my shoulder.

The cold water helped me to steady myself, and when I turned around a few moments later I was a bit closer to normal… or I at least didn't feel like I was going to vomit anymore. So I looked up into the Doctor's face and gave a small nod.

He beamed at me in return and pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning back to open the door. I followed him out, more curious than I had been when I followed him in.

"Why do you call yourself the Doctor? Just the Doctor? Like, that's your name? And how big is your ship? It's not just one room, it's got long hallways. How does that work?"

The Doctor gave a laugh that was a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Yes, just the Doctor. And the TARDIS is very big. Very very big. But don't worry about that now… more important things…".

Everyone in the console room looked up when we came back in. Their faces changed from concern to relief when they saw that I wasn't still about to fall to pieces. Well, all except Dorian and Strax, who probably couldn't care less.


	2. A Good Man Goes to War

**Chapter Two: A Good Man Goes to War**

The TARDIS landed soon after, and everyone seemed to know what to do. From what I could tell before we all left the blue box, the Doctor had this huge elaborate plan that involved a large number of people that were not in the TARDIS. When we all went our separate ways, I followed Jenny and Vastra, who seemed to know what they were doing, slinking around with expert precision, bantering the whole way like an old married couple.

When we got to where we were going, which turned out to be some kind of control room, the lizard and the human were quick to draw their blades and hold them across the throats of the two unsuspecting men that were working there.

"Go on. Resist. I am ever so hungry", Vastra hissed.

I furrowed my brows. Hungry? Cannibal? No, not cannibal. She's a lizard.

"Now, dear," Jenny started, addressing her captive. "Which button controls the lights?"

Despite her innocent voice, she was oddly intimidating.

I turned my attention to one of the screens on the control panel. It showed a strange sort of meeting in another room that looked like a form of large cargo bay. There were a lot of soldiers, all aiming guns at a sort of stage. There was a line of men in robes, one of them, the only one with his hood down, was the Doctor. He grinned cheekily at the soldiers, not seeming even slightly concerned that they, along with another soldier who appeared to be in charge, were all aiming their guns directly at his head. Half a second later, I understood his lack of concern. The row of robed people were also in the line of fire, and they did not seem pleased at the group before them, as each had produced a flaming sword, crackling with electricity.

The Doctor was talking with the officer, but I couldn't really make out what they were saying until the Doctor turned and called out into the large room.

"Amelia Pond! Get your coat!"

He then pulled up his hood with a flourish, and Jenny flipped a switch, which caused the cargo bay to go dark.

The Doctor's voice echoed around the room again. "I'm not a phantom". Jenny turned on a dim light over the stage. "I'm not a trickster". The soldiers in the room were starting to panic. "I'm a monk".

One of the soldiers called out and shot at one of the monks, and he was quickly taken down by another monk with what appeared to be a ball of lightning. The higher ranked officer was shouting, trying to regain calm. Several more monks and soldiers went down.

I looked over at Vastra, who had been occupied by tying the two soldier's together in the floor. She looked up at me and smiled before returning to the control panel to stand beside Jenny.

"Clever, isn't he?" Jenny asked Vastra.

"And rather attractive", the lizard woman added.

"You do realize he's a man, don't you, ma'am?"

Vastra shot me an amused look, and I couldn't help but grin back.

"Mammals, they all look alike", Vastra stated.

"Thank you", Jenny huffed indignantly.

Some movement caught my eye. One of the soldiers was struggling towards the light.

"Was I being insensitive again, dear? I don't know why you put up with me".

"Hey! He's…" I started, but Vastra quickly turned and seemed to shoot him with something. I had to process what I saw for a second before I realized that she'd just shot out her tongue to hit the man in the neck, like that of a gigantic frog. The man crumpled onto the ground, either unconscious or dead.

Vastra turned back to Jenny and they exchanged a satisfied look. Not married then, I decided. Still in the flirting stage.

I looked back to the screen to see the monks still standing in a row with flaming swords. The soldiers, however, we slowly putting down their weapons, chanting 'we are not fools'.

That's not smart, I thought. Unarmed is not a good thing for soldiers to be, especially when you're under attack. Then it dawned on me. That's what the Doctor had wanted, and that's what all those other people were for; the ones they'd talked about but I hadn't seen yet. Now that the soldiers were unarmed, the larger force could move in. I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms in front of me. Despite the confusing hell I'd been going through in the last hour, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for the man who called himself the Doctor. There would definitely be less trouble, now that all the people that could fight had been tricked into disarming themselves.

Vastra and Jenny didn't seem to have immediately picked up on the Doctor's intentions.

"Colonel Manton is regaining control", Vastra stated, pressing a few buttons.

"Where has the Doctor gone?" Jenny asked.

They both turned to me. They both knew I had only met him today, so I found it strange that they would ask me to predict his movements.

I nodded toward the screen. "Just wait".

Surely the man clever enough to fool a large group of armed soldiers into disarming themselves was smart enough to be in the right place at the right time.

Over the course of the next minute, my prediction turned out to be correct. Once the soldiers had all been disarmed and the monks had lowered their swords, an extremely diverse group of aliens and humans sprang into action. There were dozens more lizard people wearing masks, along with a few more Sontarans and even a few rhino looking aliens. All in all a very large group. They all materialized around the bewildered group of humans, all pointing some form of weapon. I couldn't help but laugh softly. The chant about not being fools had ended quickly, hadn't it?

The Colonel was attempting to threaten Strax, who had him at gunpoint, with talk about a fleet. That was when the Doctor reappeared.

"Not if we knock out your communications array", he cried smugly, "And you've got incoming!"

I spotted the Doctor up on an elevated platform a few floors up from where Colonel Manton was, who had seen him too. The Doctor was grinning excitedly and talking into a small object.

"Danny Boy to the Doctor. Danny Boy to the Doctor", a voice said, coming from the device, which was evidently some form of radio. Danny Boy was a World War Two term, wasn't it?

"Give 'em hell Danny Boy!" the Doctor ordered. He then preceded to spin in a circle, arms out like the wings of an airplane. The whole place shook at the impact of what I assumed to be missiles. This whole thing was insane.

Another minute passed and the Doctor entered the control room, looking extremely pleased with himself. He bounded over to me to press a kiss to my cheek, and I responded with a confused smile. His joy was infectious.

He said something to Vastra before seating himself down in the main control chair, Jenny and Vastra standing on either side. I returned to my place against the wall and crossed my arms again. Apparently we were waiting for something.

It was only a few moments before the Colonel was escorted in by Strax. The Doctor spun around in his chair to look at him.

"Sorry Colonel Manton, I lied". The Doctor grinned. "Three minutes 42 seconds".

He had said something about how long it would take, hadn't he? But I couldn't remember what the initial promise had been.

"Colonel Manton, you will give the order to withdraw", Strax commanded.

The Doctor leaned back in his chair. "No, Colonel Manton, I want you to tell your men to run away", he said. His excited tone hadn't changed, but I could feel a shift in the air. I could almost reach out and touch the dark anger radiating off the Doctor with my bare hands. But he outwardly hid it, just below the surface.

"What?" Colonel Manton asked.

"Those words, 'run away'", the Doctor repeated. "I want you to be famous for those exact words".

Damn.

"I want people to call you Colonel Runaway".

Ouch.

"I want children laughing outside your door 'cause they've found the house of Colonel Runaway".

Well, the Doctor knows how to hit hard. I had to give him that.

The Doctor suddenly leapt out of his chair to stalk toward the future Colonel Runaway. I could see the dangerous anger that I had felt as the Doctor's cheerful tone turned into a snarl.

"And when people come to you and ask if trying to get to me through the people I love is in anyway a good idea…", he spat, coming to within an inch of the Colonel's face.

Vastra let out a nervous hiss and glanced at me, as if asking me to calm him down. My intuition had been right, the Doctor was more dangerous than he was letting on. Dangerous enough to make a lizard with swords and had lived among dinosaurs nervous. I moved carefully out of my corner and took a few steps sideways. Hopefully the Doctor was affected by me as much I thought he was. He caught sight of me in the corner of his eye and turned his head. He met my eyes before looking to the ground and back up at Colonel Runaway, some of his anger dissolving when he saw how nervous he was making me.

The Doctor swallowed before continuing, his face shifting from a mask of fury to a painful smile. "I want you to tell them your name". The Doctor was smiling but looked like he was about to cry. He glanced around again. "Look, I'm angry, that's new". He did a funny thing with his jaw, making it REALLY look like he was struggling to hold back tears. "I'm really not sure what's going to happen now".

"The anger of a good man is not a problem", a lady dressed in black with an futuristic eyepatch spoke up, having been escorted into the room during the Doctor's outburst. She carried herself like someone that was in charge of everything. She was probably higher ranked than the Colonel. "Good men have too many rules".

The Doctor turned to face her slowly and spoke softly, a hint of his previous anger still lurking in his voice. "Good men don't need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many". He took a few steps towards the woman as he spoke.

The woman held his gaze for a moment. "Give the order", she said calmly to the Colonel, despite the fact she was still looking at the Doctor, who seemed both surprised and satisfied. "Give the order, Colonel Runaway".

The Doctor turned away from her and walked over to me, where he put an arm around my shoulders and pressed a kiss into my hair. I didn't mind, he seemed to be comforting himself as much as he was trying to comfort me. I looked up into his face curiously. All of his anger had vanished from his face and was replaced by sorrow and an emotion that I couldn't quite place. Guilt? Maybe. Guilt for what?

"Come on", he whispered, "let's go meet Amy, eh?"

I nodded and he took my hand, leading me past the strange lady and out into a corridor.

The Doctor clung to my hand tightly the whole way, as if he were afraid that I'd fade away if he loosened his grip. Or maybe he was worried that he'd be the one to fade. A quick glance up to his stony face and unfocused eyes suggested the latter.

Luckily he seemed to cheer up some when we finally made it to entirely white room; the clean and sterile environment was a startling contrast to the dirty grays and greens of the rest of the building. The bright white light also brought out the few non-white colors in the room, making them seem even more brilliant. Rory's red cloak stood out like a splash of crimson paint, while the hair of the woman he was with, assumably Amy, gleamed red enough to match.

The Doctor hesitated at the door uncomfortably.

"Ew, kissing and crying. I'll- we'll be back in a bit", he stammered, starting to back out of the doorway.

I peered over his shoulder. The couple were indeed kissing and crying, holding something between them.

As the Doctor started to shove me back into the corridor a very teary Centurion turned around to us. "Oi, you. Get in here, now", he ordered, while an equally teary Amy grinned.

The Doctor bobbed back into the room with me in tow. I kind of tried to stay at the door, feeling uncomfortable being present with new parents in a state of high emotion, especially since they evidently knew me much better than I knew them, but the Doctor dragged me in anyway. He'd been dragging me around a lot, actually, to think of it.

Once down the stairs separating us, the Doctor hurried over to peer at the bundle between them. Bundles, I corrected. Babies. Two of them. I peered at the soft pink faces curiously from around the Doctor's arm. He was smiling in wonder and even pointed at them in excitement.

"My daughters", Rory proclaimed in a soft voice. "What do you think?"

Before the Doctor could respond, Amy peered at me curiously. "Monet, don't be a stranger".

"Oh, uh", the Doctor interjected on my behalf, "She's new to this".

"We accidentally picked her up too early", Rory added, "She doesn't know us yet".

Amy didn't seem particularly fazed by this information. "Oh, well, that's a shame, considering one's named after you".

"What?" I asked, even more bewildered.

Amy giggled at my expression and extended her index finger to the baby Rory was holding. Baby Monet reached out a tiny hand to grasp it. "Yeah, couldn't forget about one of my best mates. You, me, and Penny… we get up to a decent bit of trouble and have a bit of fun".

"You know Penny too?" I asked incredulously.

"You really don't know us yet, do you?" Amy snorted, almost sounding offended, but the twinkle in her eyes only showed amusement.

While Amy and I were talking, the Doctor was examining the two small children.

"Baby Monet Pond", the Doctor said softly to tiny Monet. "And baby-?"

"Melody", Amy added.

"Melody? Hello, Melody Pond", the Doctor greeted the baby in his most gentle voice.

"Melody Williams", Rory corrected.

"Is a geography teacher", Amy interjected, "Melody Pond is a superhero".

Rory glared at his wife, but there was no heat in his gaze. Much to my dismay, the Doctor leaned forward and sniffed both babies loudly.

"Well, yes, I do suppose they do smell nice", he commented when he straightened back up. "Never really sniffed a…". He looked thoughtful. "Maybe I should give it a go. Amelia Pond, come here".

"Doctor", Amy said in surprise as the Doctor suddenly went in for a hug.

"Sorry we were so long". He took a deep whiff. "Ah".

"It's okay", Amy said, breaking the hug. "I knew you were coming. All of you".

Suddenly baby Melody let out a squeal.

"It's okay. She's still all yours. And really you should call her Mummy," the Doctor responded, "not Big Milk Thing".

The other three of us were equally confused.

"Okay, what are you doing?" Amy voiced the question that was forming in my head.

"I speak baby", the Doctor answered matter-of-factly.

"No, you don't", Amy said, still confused.

I sighed and shook my head. It wasn't the strangest thing I'd heard today.

The Doctor looked smug. "I speak everything", he said, before addressing the babies again. "Don't I, Monet Pond?"

Tiny Monet cooed in response.

"No, it's not, it's cool", he huffed, adjusting his bowtie while Amy and Rory laughed.

The Doctor's conversation was interrupted by Vastra, who had just appeared in the doorway. "Doctor, take a look, they're leaving".

The Doctor paced over to the window that I hadn't noticed. Vastra was still talking. "Demon's Run is ours without a drop of blood spilled. My friend, you have never risen higher".

I briefly wondered about the man Vastra had shot down with her reptile tongue. Was he dead? What about the soldiers that had been killed by the monks during the confusion? I followed the Doctor to the window and watched the dozens of soldiers be marched out by the lizard people, and decided that it could've been a lot worse. But when I glanced back at Amy and Rory, I noticed that Rory looked slightly unsettled by Vastra's praisings. Did he know something?

A short while later we had all gone back to the TARDIS. The Doctor had gone back inside to get something, leaving Amy, Rory, and me outside with the babies. Amy had Melody, who was being fussy, while Rory held tiny Monet, whom Rory presumed to be asleep, nestled into her father's shoulder. I paced around to Rory's back, and noticed that my miniature counterpart was definitely not asleep. Her tiny light eyes peering at me over the scarlet of her father's cloak. I smiled at her and I thought I saw the flicker of a smile in her small, and remarkably intelligent eyes that seemed to be studying me.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Rory asked his wife, who was pacing back towards us with a crying Melody.

"She doesn't like the TARDIS noise," Amy answered, already sounding a bit stressed. "I asked him to turn something off, but it was all, 'I don't want to punch a hole in the space time continuum'".

Rory reached out to Melody with the hand that wasn't holding tiny Monet but was interrupted by Jenny, who had come back to report.

"Rory, the Judoon have escorted the clerics out of the quadrant", she advised.

"Judoon?" I asked. "Which ones are those?"

"The Rhinos", Jenny answered kindly before continuing. "Spitfires have returned to their own time. Captain Avery and his men are going. Is she alright?" She finished, turning to Melody.

"Yeah, she's just crying", Rory answered, sounding a bit uncertain.

"Give her to me, human fools," Strax suddenly demanded, reaching out an arm. "She needs changing".

"I just changed her", Amy huffed, clearly not about to hand one of her newborns to a potato-soldier-nurse. "I think she might need a feed".

"A feed?" Strax still seemed certain that he could provide the best care for the fussy baby. "Of course, I'll take care of everything". He reached out for the baby again.

Rory stepped forward defensively. "Uh, I really don't think you will, actually".

Strax looked offended. "I have gene-spliced myself for all nursing duties".

That's dedication.

Strax smacked himself in the chest. "I can produce magnificent quantities of lactic fluid".

Alrighty then.

Rory looked slightly taken aback, not sure how to respond to such a statement. Luckily the Doctor chose this moment to return from the depths of the TARDIS, carrying a relatively large wooden object.

"She's not hungry, she's tired", the Doctor said, hurrying over to place the object in front of Amy. It was a cradle. A very old cradle, by the looks of it. Dark brown wood showed through the remnants of faded gold paint, and a few clunky faded carved-out stars and baubles dangled from string tied to a rusty metal arm attached to the headboard. "Sorry, Melody, they're just not listening".

The bizarre mobile contraption clinked and clattered as the Doctor moved it out of the way so Amy could lay Melody down.

"What's this Melody?" she asked her baby as she lowered her into the old-fashioned cradle.

"Very pretty, according to your daughter," the Doctor translated, tickling Melody fondly. "It's… uh…" he clapped his hands nervously. "It's a cot".

Rory brought mini Monet over to the cradle as well. Luckily, it was a rather large cradle, and both babies could fit easily. The Doctor took her from Rory.

"Give her here. Hey, here we go. Oh, hello", the Doctor cooed as he took the other twin and settled her down next to her sister. He then looked up to grin at me and I smirked weakly in response.

"But where did you get a cot?" Rory asked.

"It's old. Really old", Amy added. She addressed the Doctor, looking both uncomfortable and curious. "Doctor, um… do you have children?"

The Doctor didn't respond, instead continued to stare down at the babies. From my vantage point on the other side of him, I could see how strained his face looked. It was the same expression that he had worn in the corridor earlier. Strained, with blank with eyes focusing on something beyond what was actually in front of him. It was obvious to me, what had happened, but apparently it wasn't to Amy and Rory. It was the same expression Mrs. Alani wore when she looked down at a baby. Mrs. Alani had given birth to three children. The first one, a boy, had died of fever when he was two months old; the second, a girl named Adelaide, was a abducted when she was sixteen and found two states away, raped and murdered. The last one, the only one who had made it to adulthood, had moved out when he turned eighteen. He lived somewhere in California, but had never spoken to his mother again. The only time she ever heard from him was when his wife, whom she had never met, sent the occasional Christmas card that displayed them and their young son. I knew what the expression on the Doctor's face meant, and I mentally pleaded with Amy to let it alone.

"No", the Doctor said softly.

"Have you ever had children?" Amy persisted.

The Doctor didn't answer. I came closer to peer into the cradle, making sure that I brushed against him slightly. The Doctor smiled sadly and extended a finger to tiny Monet, who cooed in response.

The Doctor's hand flew up to his hair. "No, no, it's real, it's my hair", he said defensively.

"Doctor, who slept in there?" Amy wouldn't just leave it alone.

Vastra came to the Doctor's rescue. "Doctor, we need you in the main control room".

The Doctor looked up. "Be right there". He took my hand to tell me he wanted me to come too. "Things to do", he explained hurriedly to Amy. "I've still got to work out what this base is for. We can't leave till we know". He cut off Rory with a wave of his hand.

"Uh, this is where I was," Amy said, taking a few steps towards the Doctor. I got the impression she was trying to goad him into telling her more. "The whole time I thought I was on the TARDIS, I was really here".

"Ah," the Doctor sighed, the addressed Rory without taking his eyes off Amy, "Centurion, permission to hug?"

Rory did a so-so movement with his head. "Be aware, I do have a sword".

The Doctor gave a weak salute. "At all times", and went in to hug Amy. "You were on the TARDIS too, your heart and mind, soul. But physically, yes, you were still in this place".

What the hell was I getting into? Removing body and soul? Great.

"And when I saw that face looking through the hatch, that woman looking at me?"

What?

"Reality bleeding through. They must've taken you quite a while back, just before America".

I sighed again and masaged my brow with the heel of my hand. I was getting a headache.

Rory poked his head from around the Doctor. "That's probably enough hugging now". The Doctor gave a thumbs up and they separated. "So, her flesh avatar was with us all that time? But that means they were projecting a control signal right into the TARDIS, wherever we were in time and space".

"Yeah, they're very clever", the Doctor agreed.

Understatement of the century. Whatever century that was.

"You are?" Amy inquired.

"Whoever wants our babies", Rory muttered sadly.

"Why did they want them?"

"Exactly", the Doctor said seriously.

"Is there anything you're not telling us?" Rory asked. "You knew Amy wasn't real, you never said".

"Well I couldn't be sure they weren't listening". The Doctor turned to start towards the main control room.

"Doctor,". Amy took a few steps after him. "But you always hold out on us. Please, not this time. Doctor, it's our babies. Tell us something. One little thing".

The Doctor turned slightly, his expression somber. "It's mine", he said with a frail smile.

"What is?"

"Cot. It's my cot". He shrugged. "I slept in there".

Amy and Rory looked amazed, amazed enough for the Doctor to make an escape. He signaled me to follow with a pointed look, and we left the new parents and their offspring studying the ancient cradle.

For the first part of the walk, we went in silence; But after a moment I broke it.

"Was it really yours?"

The Doctor sighed. "Yeah, it was. A long time ago".

"Who else's was it?"

He turned to look at me curiously. "What makes you think it was anyone else's?"

I shrugged. "The way you look at it, I guess. Like you're remembering. Your time in the crib isn't exactly something you remember". I thought for a second. "It would also be odd for someone to keep the cradle they slept in… it's usually the parents that do that".

The Doctor gave a painful laugh. "Never miss a trick, do you? But, then, I guess you never did".

I laced my fingers through his and we kept walking. He gave my fingers an appreciative squeeze.

By the time we made it to the control room, the Doctor had brushed off his previous internalized grief.

"You've hacked into their software, then?" He asked immediately, all business and energy again.

"I believe I sold it to them," the blueberry man said, exasperated.

So that's what he was here for. I'd been wondering.

"Ooh. So what have we learned?" The Doctor asked bouncing over and smacking his hands down on the back of the chair the blue man was sitting in.

Meanwhile, I chose to sit down in a chair in the corner made of cold metal. I sat heavily and leaned forward, messaging my brow again. The adrenaline I had been running off of the last few hours was not the good kind, but the kind that was based in stress and panic. Now that I had calmed down a bit, the adrenaline had started to wear off, leaving me emotionally exhausted.

"That anger is always the shortest distance to a mistake", Vastra answered.

The Doctor turned away from the screen and towards her. "I'm sorry?"

"The words of an old friend", she elaborated, "who once found me in the London Underground attempting to avenge my sisters on perfectly innocent tunnel diggers".

"Well, you were very cross at the time," the Doctor said simply.

"As you were today, old friend. Point taken, I hope".

The Doctor gave a subtle if slightly confused nod and began ambling around the room.

Vastra was still speaking. "Now I have a question. A simple one. Are Melody and baby Monet human?"

The Doctor spun around in surprise. "Sorry. What?" He gave a confused chuckle. "Of course they are. Completely human. What are you talking about?"

It was Dorium that answered. "They've been scanning them since they were born, and I think they've found what they were looking for". He pulled up a picture of DNA on the screen.

"Human DNA", the Doctor confirmed.

"Look closer". Dorium zoomed in on a strand in the base sequence. A strand that was slightly separate and entirely different, even to my almost-high-school-graduate eyes. "Human plus. Specifically, human plus Time Lord".

What the fuck is a Time Lord?

The news meant very little to me, but seemed to be extremely stressful to the Doctor.

"But they're human. They're Amy and Rory's daughters", he insisted.

"You've told me about your people", Vastra tried to reason, "They became what they did through prolonged exposed to the time vortex". The Doctor pointed to her as if she were being ridiculous. "The untempered schism".

So the Doctor was a Time Lord?

"Over billions of years!" The Doctor cried "it didn't just happen!"

"How close are they? Could they even regenerate?"

The Doctor sighed and startled pacing again. "No! No, I don't think so".

"You don't sound sure".

"Because I don't understand how this happened!"

"Which leaves me to ask when did it happen?"

The Doctor wrinkled his nose. "When?"

"I am trying to be delicate. I know how you can blush". Vastra looked a bit uncomfortable herself. The blue man simply chuckled. "When did these babies…." Vastra started carefully, "begin?"

"Begin?"

Vastra looked to me for help. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. It was like dealing with twelve year olds; everyone knows what sex is but are afraid that they'll get in trouble if they say it out loud.

"Conception", I sighed wearily.

The Doctor did blush. "Oh… you mean…".

"Quite", Vastra confirmed.

The Doctor got even more antsy and fiddled with his bow tie. "How am I supposed to know? That's all humany private stuff. It just sort of goes on. It's not like they put up a balloon". He accented his words with distracted flaps of his hand and began to stride out into the connecting corridor.

"Well, could the children have begun in the TARDIS, in flight, through the vortex?" She called after him.

He came back quickly, shouting, "No! No! Impossible! It was all running about, sexy fish vampires, and blowing stuff up. And Rory wasn't even there in the beginning. Then he was dead. Then he didn't exist. Then he was plastic. And then I have to reboot the whole universe… long story… So technically, the first time they were on the TARDIS in this version of reality was on their…". The Doctor's eyes suddenly widened and he struggled to choke the last words out. "On their wedding night".

I, quite frankly, still had no idea what was going on. The only facts I was able to glean from the Doctor's rapid analysis was that sexy fish vampires existed and Rory had had a really rough time. So my only response was to stare at the Doctor blankly. Had it really taken him that long to realize that humans usually have sex on their wedding night?

The Doctor's agitation levels were still increasing exponentially.

"It doesn't make sense. You can't just cook yourself up a Time Lord", he snapped, flailing his hands about.

"Of course not", Vastra said, keeping a level tone, "but you sure gave them one hell of a start, and they've been working very hard ever since".

That wasn't completely fair. The Doctor had no control of when and where his friends decided to bang.

Dorium stepped in again. "And yet they gave in so easily. Does this not bother anyone else".

It bothered me. Now that I had some concept of how complex this operation was, there definitely was something off about the whole thing. Why had the eyepatch lady simply rolled over? She was too calm for someone that had just lost what they had clearly put years of work into.

The Doctor of course, wasn't listening. "Amy. She was worried that the baby would have a Time head or something".

"Only you would ignore the instincts of a mother", Vastra nearly hissed.

"Or the instincts of a coward", Dorium insisted, "this was too easy. Something's wrong".

"Why would you do it?" The Doctor asked. "Even if you could get your hands on a brand new Time Lord. What for?"

"A weapon?" Vastra suggested.

"Why would a Time Lord be a weapon?"

I had a sinking feeling as to why.

"Well, they've seen you".

Yahtzee.

"Me?" He asked in a soft voice, his previous agitation vanished. The Doctor's face nearly crumpled. He looked devastated, like a man that had just received the most shocking and horrible news he could imagine.

Vastra ignored his distress. "Mr. Maldovar, you are right, this was too easy. We should get back to the others".

The Doctor sank into the chair behind him slowly, like an old man that wasn't entirely sure the chair would hold him. His eyes were out of focus and he didn't seem to notice when Vastra and Dorium left the room, he could only whisper, "Me?"

I stood up slowly and made my way over to him. He looked so heartbroken that I couldn't just leave him.

"Hey", I whispered softly, coming to stand in front of him, where I put my hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at me sadly before taking my hand and holding it up to his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned against it. I could feel his lips brushing softly against my thumb and his breath as he tried to steady himself. His skin was surprisingly cool to the touch, not unpleasantly cool, but different.

We stayed like that for several seconds before we were startled by the screen being activated. It was the eyepatch woman.

"I see you've accessed our files", she said in her sickeningly smooth voice, "do you understand yet?"

The Doctor stood, looking angry.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm a long way away. But I like to keep tabs on you. The children, then, what do you think?"

"What are they?"

"Hope", the woman hissed, "hope in this endless, bitter war".

"What war? Against who?"

Well, what else do you build a monster for? To kill another monster. Though I wasn't sure about the 'monster' part, for either the Doctor or for the twins. But the fight fire with fire logic is sound. I slipped my hand back into the Doctor's.

"Against you, Doctor".

"The children are not weapons!" He shouted.

"Oh, give us time. They will be".

"But you've already lost them, and I swear, I will never let you anywhere near them again".

I suddenly understood. The woman's face was too smug. We had already lost. I reached forward and tugged at the Doctor's sleeve, trying to get him to move. We needed to be downstairs. Right now. He ignored me.

The woman laughed. "Oh, Doctor, fooling you once was a joy…".

"Doctor!" I hissed, pulling at him more insistently.

"... but fooling you twice, the same way…".

"Now!"

"... is a privilege".

He suddenly seemed to get it. He spun around and took off at a run, shouting for Amy. I hared off after him, struggling to keep up with his long legs. My heart sank when I heard fighting up ahead. We were too late. Way too late.

The Doctor and I got stuck at a locked door, one that led into the main cargo bay, where everyone was. The Doctor was struggling to open the door with a whirring device while I looked on helplessly. Strax had been right about civilians.

"Amy, they're not real! They're flesh avatars!" The Doctor shouted, even though he knew that she wouldn't be able to hear him. "Amy!"

The door suddenly slid open and we both ran into the room. The place was in ruins. Electricity sparked from wires and numerous things were on fire. People were dying and dead. Rory was the first person we saw.

"Yeah. We know", Rory said coldly, pain etched into every feature on his face.

A wounded Strax groaned and Rory went over to him. Jenny walked around to Amy, who was sitting on a metal box, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Amy had a blank look on her face and pale goo on her white clothes. Just thinking about what must've happened made me feel sick. Holding your babies in your arms one moment, and the next they fall apart and melt away. I couldn't even wrap my mind around the trauma that alone would have caused.

The Doctor walked over to Amy slowly, wringing his hands. Amy didn't look up.

"So they took them anyway", her voice was weighed down with pain, "all this was for nothing".

"I am so sorry", the Doctor said genuinely and took a step forward, his arms slightly outstretched to hug her but she flinched away.

"Amy, it's not his fault", Jenny said gently.

"I know. I know", Amy whispered, tears streaming down her face

Amy turned around and walked away, Rory followed, trying to comfort her while the Doctor and I looked after them helplessly.

"Doctor, someone wants to speak with you", Vastra advised.

The Doctor followed her to a young woman who lay propped up against some equipment, obviously seriously wounded. I didn't follow and sat down on the metal box that Amy had been sitting on and put my head in my hands. I didn't even know how to process the emotional jumps I had been through today. Now I was just tired. My brain was starting to block everything out, all thoughts and emotions. I wanted to go home, to crawl up in my bed and pretend today hadn't happened. And who the hell knows? This might just be some fucked up dream. I might just wake up in a minute and move on. I closed my eyes and tried to block everything out. I had almost convinced myself that none of it was real until the Doctor sat back down beside me.

I shifted one of my hands away from my face so I could see him. He looked pale and every bit as tired as I felt. The Doctor was leaning forward, hands on either side of him while he stared as his feet. I reached out with one hand and rested it on his back, but he didn't move. I assumed that the girl he had gone over to see had died.

Vastra came over to us.

"So, what now?" She asked. "They'd have most certainly have taken them to Earth, raised them

in the correct environment".

The Doctor stood wearily but I stayed sitting. "Yes, they did, and it's already too late".

I'm going to stick my neck out and say time travel. I looked at the Doctor to ask what had happened but he just shook his head and started walking away.

"You're giving up?" Vastra said, following him. "You never do that".

"Yeah, and don't you sometimes wish I did?" The Doctor whipped around and spat.

Vastra was about to answer but was interrupted by a bright, crackling light. The light vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind a tall woman with extremely curly hair.

"Well, then, soldier, how goes the day?" The woman asked the Doctor who stiffened before turning around to look at her. He obviously knew who she was and found her presence both surprising and irritating.

The woman looked around the Doctor to me and flashed me a smile. I hadn't the faintest clue who she was, but there was something familiar about her; I had always been good at faces.

Amy and Rory seemed to know her too; they looked at her with startled expressions.

The Doctor's surprise turned to anger as he stalked toward her. "Where the hell have you been?" He snapped. "Every time you have asked, I have been there. Where the hell were you today?"

"I couldn't have prevented this," the woman said sadly.

"You could have tried," the Doctor growled.

"And so, my friend, could you". The Doctor stiffened at that. She continued, "I know you're not alright", she addressed Amy, "but hold tight, Amy, because you're going to be".

The Doctor found the words he was looking for. "You think I wanted this? I didn't do this! This… this wasn't me!" He shouted angrily.

"This was exactly you. All this. All of it", the woman said earnestly, "You make them so afraid. When you began all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think that you'd become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name?"

I blinked at the pair curiously. Who even were these people?

"Doctor", the woman continued, "the word for 'healer' and 'wise man' throughout the universe. We get that word from you, you know? But if you carry on the way that you are, what might that word come to mean?" The woman circled the Doctor slowly while he still faced ahead, with his back to me. "To the people of the Gamma Forests, the word 'doctor' means 'mighty warrior'". The Doctor turned slightly to face her. "How far you've come. And now they've taken two children. The children of your best friends. And they're going to turn them into weapons to bring you down. And all of this, for fear of you".

The Doctor had started walking away slowly while she spoke, but now he turned and slowly made his way back. I could see his face now, and he seemed to be trying to come up with a response. I couldn't quite read his expression, but he seemed to be evaluating the woman.

He came within a few inches of her before asking, "Who are you?" rather bitterly.

Rather than answer the question, the woman caught sight of the cradle and bounced towards it. "Oh, your cot. I haven't seen that in ages".

The Doctor chased after her in annoyance. "No. You tell me who you are, right now".

The woman turned and looked him squarely in the eyes. "No, Doctor, you figure it out". Her gaze then shifted to hold mine. I could tell by the way she looked at me that she knew me too. Well, everyone seemed to already know mel. But her eyes held something different; a deep emotional attachment that I couldn't quite place.

"What?" The Doctor growled, looking angry again.

Her eyes went back to his. "Yes, you". She crossed her arms and took a step back, but not in a manner that suggested she felt in the least bit intimidated. "There is a puzzle that you have been trying to solve for a very long time. You've just been handed the last pieces. Put them together".

The Doctor blinked in confusion, obviously trying to work out what puzzle she was referring too. He started pacing, his eyes flickering over what seemed to be every object in the room. Amy. Rory. The TARDIS. Then they rested on me, and, though I had no idea what connection he made, I could literally see it click behind his eyes. He stopped dead and stared at me with wide eyes.

"What?" I said, exasperated, tired of everyone knowing things that I didn't.

The Doctor didn't answer, but looked from me to the woman in astonishment. A small, excited smile crept its way into his face. "Hello".

"Hello," the woman returned, her face softening.

They seemed to have a quick inside conversation that consisted of a few incomplete sentences. The one thing I managed to pick up from it was that I was somehow involved. I crossed my right leg over my left and leaned forward, resting my arms on them as I stared at the Doctor and the woman with raised eyebrows. Whenever they established whatever it was between them the Doctor was laughing and seemed genuinely thrilled.

"How do I look?" He asked her anxiously, straightening his bow tie.

The woman gave a knowing grin. "Amazing".

The Doctor gave me a sideways glance. "Think I'd better".

He then turned his attention to Amy and Rory. "Amy, Rory, don't worry, I know where to find your daughters, and on my life, they will be safe. River, get them all home".

Her name was River.

The Doctor dashed over to me to yank me up and start dragging me towards the TARDIS. I dimly heard Amy and Rory protesting behind us, but the blue wooden door slammed shut. The Doctor was already pulling levers energetically, causing the TARDIS to groan and wheeze as it was set into motion.


	3. The Line Between Truth and Fantasy

**Chapter Three: The Line Between Truth and Fantasy**

"Doctor," I gasped, having been unexpectedly hurled into the railing again. "We're just going to leave them all there?"

"Didn't you hear me? I told River to take them home". The Doctor pulled one final lever and the shaking stopped.

"Have we landed? Where are we?"

"At the moment, deep space".

"Deep space? But- never mind. Who's River? And what was that all about at the end? What about the twins?"

The Doctor paced around the console and studied my face closely. He smiled gently, looking both nervous and eager. "I told you I'd explain everything after it was all over, and that's what I'll do. But first, let's pop down to the kitchens… I'll make us both some tea. You must be tired".

I glared at him but shrugged my consent and followed him down the corridor across from the one he had taken me down earlier. We took a left, then a right before he ducked into a very large kitchen that seemed to have everything you could ever want by the way of food inside.

I stood mesmerized by the scene while the Doctor busied himself with making tea. The layout of the kitchen was an excellent combination of a high quality chef's kitchen with the homely feel of one you might find in an old couple's house. Large metal grills and stoves lined the walls for what must've been the length of a football field, accented by cabinets and shelves topped with flowers and knick-knacks. The side closest to the door was where the kettle, along with a giant refrigerator, an oven, and a toaster were all neatly placed. There was a medium sized wooden table there as well, with dark navy napkins stacked carefully on the dark wood. The walls on this side were different too, a warm burgundy instead of sterile white.

I sat sideways in one of the chairs near the table's end while the Doctor filled two teal mugs with tea and put sugar in both. He placed one mug in front of me and sat in the chair adjacent. We sat in silence for a moment, watching our teas cool enough to drink. The tea smelled nice, a soothing mix of herbs and spices. A hesitant sip told me that it tasted as good as it smelled.

"So?" I asked, looking at him expectantly.

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took a sip of tea before responding. "I'm the Doctor, a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. I'm nine hundred and nine years old and…uh... the last of my species".

I blinked at him in surprise.

"The last? What happened?"

"A war". His tone suggested that he didn't want to elaborate on the subject.

"What about all the stuff that happened today?"

The Doctor ignored the question "The TARDIS is infinitely big. She can rearrange and add and remove rooms as she pleases".

Although these were questions I had asked and/or still planned to ask, they were nowhere near the top of my list of things I needed answers to. I was about to insist, but I suddenly got the impression that he didn't want to answer them yet. The tea was definitely a soothing blend, and he hadn't chosen it without purpose. It had been a stressful day, and I was willing to bet that he wanted me calm and relaxed before explaining today's events. I decided to play along.

"As she pleases?"

He grinned. "Yeah. She has a consciousness".

"Your ship is alive?"

"Yep, she's telepathic, too. In my experience, you've always had a connection with her, maybe even stronger than mine. Have you stopped to listen yet?"

I diverted my attention from the Doctor to my surroundings and listened. The Doctor went quiet and I could hear the ship humming. At first the hum was superficial, just like what you'd expect on any vessel with an engine, but then the vibrations worked their way through me, starting in my toes and working their way up and out until they tingled in my fingers and into my brain. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, nor was it really a physical one. It was more like a presence, slipping into my mind, warm and gentle. Once inside my mind, the presence tried to communicate; not through words, but through emotions. A warmth spread through me and I had the vague impression of something that I could only characterize as a hello.

I tilted my head curiously towards the Doctor, who smiled happily back.

"Child of the TARDIS, that's you", the Doctor said carefully.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like", he held my gaze with intense eyes. "You were there today and heard it exactly when I did. I know most of it didn't make sense, but I know you understood that part".

I stared at him blankly, trying to work out what he was saying.

"Children of the TARDIS. You and your sister".

"I don't have a sister", I growled, "I'm an only child". My heart was sinking, no matter what I said.

"They separated you. It was too dangerous to keep you in the same place".

"That's not possible".

"They took Melody to a closed children's home that they had control of and raised her to be what they wanted her to be. You were put up for adoption".

"No".

"You were quickly adopted by Clay and Suzanne English, because they couldn't have kids of their own".

"Stop it. I'm human".

"Yes, you are, more or less. Probably more human than Melody, that's why they left you behind. Your real parents, Rory and Amy Williams, are human".

"STOP IT!" I finally snapped before getting to my feet and storming out of the kitchen.

I had no idea where I was going, but I needed away from there. I was in a fog, a buzzing, burning fog that clouded my vision and blocked all of my thoughts while my heart went cold.

I kept walking until I was thoroughly lost. I spotted a doorway a short distance ahead and went through it. It was a library. A gigantic and wondrous library, with winding stairways and platforms to allow access to the enormous shelves in rows that spanned from floor to ceiling. The ceiling arched up what must've been ten stories and was made of glass, beyond which I could see black sky flecked with stars.

If I had been in a better mental state, I would have been floored by the sight. Instead, I barely registered it before slinking among the shelves until I found a wooden couch with red cushions built into the base of one. I sat down and tried to work through everything. The aura of the library was warm and soothing, dark colors mixed with the smell of books and gentle lights that were both bright enough to read by but dim to the point one could sleep without any difficulty.

I hadn't known that my mom and dad weren't my real parents. Or maybe I did. I had noticed gaps, little kinks in details and things that never quite added up, but I had always ignored them. They both were black haired with sharp, angular features, while I was round faced, curly and nearly blond. Their eyes were brown, mine blue-grey. My mom had bought a photo album when I was little, one that was supposed to mark your baby's milestones. There was a slot for everything, from ultrasound to graduation. There was even a spot for a pregnancy test, or a picture of a pregnancy test, whatever you preferred. But in the book that was marking my life, there were things missing. The picture slot on the cover was marked for 'ultrasound', but the cover only displayed me as a one month old. There were no ultrasounds, no pregnancy tests, no hospital pictures, and no baby shower photos. If one of their friends ever mentioned something about being pregnant or their wife expecting, my parents had ever only smiled and nodded along. Yeah, I had known, but had chosen not to see.

I heard soft footsteps and looked up to see the Doctor standing at the end of the aisle, watching me with his hands in his pockets and wearing a somber expression. He came over slowly and sat beside me quietly.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"No", I answered, not looking at him.

"Good".

"Good?"

"There are some things we should never come away okay from".

I rubbed my forehead with my palm. "That woman... River... is she who I think she is?"

The Doctor nodded. "She's Melody".

I nodded slightly but still didn't look up. "She said that the things that happened today were the last puzzle pieces you needed for something you've been trying to figure out for a while".

"You", he murmured, "I had been trying to figure out you. For years now, because, when I first met you… I scanned you and saw that you had Time Lord DNA, which shouldn't have been possible. Obviously, you knew what and who you were by that point, but couldn't tell me, because it would've given me too much information on today, about Amy and Rory. All I ever got from you was that you were adopted, your birth parents were human, and that you had a twin sister. All I could do was wait for things to play out. And they have". He smiled warmly and shifted a bit closer.

"Right", I mumbled, still rubbing my forehead. After a moment I lowered my hand to look at the Doctor. "Any more life-changing information that I need to be aware of?"

"Well, like I said before… you and me… we're time travelers…".

"Yeah, I got that part".

"And we rarely meet in the right order. Like right now… I know you, but you just met me. Next time we meet could be any time for me. So, there's this one thing about Time Lords that you ought to know".

"And what, pray tell, would that be?" There was very little that would surprize me at this point. A purple tentacle? An extra face on his stomach? Fucking whatever.

"We have this neat little trick when it comes to cheating death. If I'm dying, each of my cells uses regenerative energy to repair the damage… but the side effects, apart from short term confusion, energy deficit, etcetera… is that I change".

"Change?"

"Yes, change. I change my face. My entire body turns into something completely different. I don't look like the same person".

"So I'm guessing that, when we meet out of order, I spend time with your other faces".

"Yes, exactly". The Doctor smiled. "And they're still me, same memories, more or less same personality. Well, personality can vary a little. But really, it's me".

"Okay", I said simply, shaking my head tiredly. "How many other faces?"

"Two others, at least. As far as I know, those are the only ones you meet. I have eleven regenerations, eleven different Doctors. But I didn't meet you until my ninth".

"How do I recognize you?"

"Well, you know this one", he patted his cheeks, "and I'm the oldest. Nine looks older. Wears a leather jacket. Big nose, even larger ears". He looked thoughtful for a second. "Ten looks older than me, but younger than Nine. Most people might say that he has good hair". The Doctor laughed. "But you always described him as a cockatoo in converse".

I managed a snort. "Sounds like something I'd say". We sat in silence for a few more moments. "So, what now?"

"Now? I guess I should take you home… I need to see what I can do about trying to find your sister. See where she ended up before she was River Song. I know all about what happened to you after Demon's Run, but there is a lot I still don't know about her… and I expect that I might bump into you when you're a bit older. Crossing your own time line can be dangerous".

"M'kay". I stared straight ahead.

"Hey". the Doctor murmured, getting off of the couch to kneel in front of me, "not every day is this bad. This was a horrible day, overall. But there are lots of good days too".

"It's just been confusing and stressful", I said, and folded my hands in my lap. "But I don't think that it could get any worse in that respect". The Doctor looked a bit uncomfortable. "What is it now?"

"Well… uh… I'm afraid I am about to make it significantly worse". He began searching through his pockets nervously from where he knelt in front of me. "I know that it's dreadful timing… but you always said that I asked the first time you met me".

The Doctor apparently had a lot of pockets, but after a moment he pulled out a ring, which he held out to me, looking extremely nervous.

"What?" I said in irritated disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No… not kidding", he said softly, now looking terrified. "I'm asking what you think I'm asking".

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. Today would never stop, would it? Just when I think that the day couldn't get any weirder… it gets weirder. I had been in english class, hadn't I? I had been listening to Mrs. Pierce drabble about a book, complaining about it with Penny. Had that really been earlier today? It felt like years. Decades. And now here I was, being proposed to by a face changing alien that I just met, who has known me for years and is friends with my birth parents.

I was aware of the Doctor shifting nervously in front of me, still waiting for an answer.

"You know future me", I said finally, "What did she say?"

"Well... I never saw you without it… the ring. Time lines are sort of important… trying to change events that have already happened can create paradoxes… which are bad…".

I looked into his face, into his pleading green eyes, and could tell that it wasn't just the time line he was worried about.

I let out a dry, humorless laugh and extended my left hand. "Well… who am I to argue with time?".

The Doctor was visibly relieved and beamed as he slipped the ring on my finger. He then helped me to my feet and kissed my cheek tenderly before leading me out of the library. He was talking, but I was way beyond listening. All I knew was that we were suddenly back in the console room, where I sat in one of the squashy chairs and watched the Doctor pull levers and push buttons. He paused and looked up at me.

"Do you want me to take you back to school, or straight home?"

"School", I answered, "My car's there".

"You in an okay state to drive?"

"I'll be fine".

"Okay". The Doctor paused for a moment, hand poised over a lever, looking thoughtful. "One more thing". He crossed over to where I sat, where he leaned down slightly to hold my gaze. "I need to tell you something. Something important. Something you must never tell another soul".

I shook my head wearily, trying to hide how much his sudden intensity unsettled me. "Okay… shoot".

"Swear. Swear on it. I know that it'll seem like it's not that important of a secret to keep now, but you'll understand it better later on".

I looked up to hold his gaze. "I swear".

He nodded and leaned in to whisper into my ear. It sounded like a jumble of syllables to me, something that made no sense and would be easy for me to forget; but the word burned itself into my mind like a cattle brand; it seared itself in a way that I would never be able to forget, even I wanted to.

"What does that mean?" I asked when he pulled away.

"That was my name. I know names aren't all that important to humans, but it is my most closely guarded secret. I would've preferred to tell you when you know me better, but I think you might need to know it. You're going to meet me when I am much younger and don't trust you yet. That's what you have to tell me so I know you're not lying. So I know that I, older me, trusts you. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

The Doctor leaned forward like he was going to kiss me, but thought better of it at the last second, instead pressing the kiss intended for my lips to the tip of my nose before bounding back to the console.

He flipped lever and the TARDIS stopped shaking. "Here we are. Same closet, thirty seconds after we left. All you'll have to do is explain the Roman". The Doctor bounded back over to me and wrapped me in a tight hug that I feebly returned. "It'll be alright", he whispered into my ear, "I swear. I don't know when you'll see me again, but it'll be soon, and you'll be brilliant".


	4. Sinking In

**Chapter Four: Sinking In**

After I exited the TARDIS, I paused for a moment to watch as she dematerialized, having not seen it from the outside yet. It was a wonderful thing to behold, but I was currently a bit blind to it. I was only vaguely aware of her sending me a farewell vibe before blinking out of existence.

I managed to slip out of the closet unnoticed,which was lucky, as I had no desire to explain what I was doing in there. Especially after the disaster the TARDIS had left behind.

I passed the bathroom on the way down the hall, backtracked, and ducked inside. That was a lucky decision, too. I was a mess; my hair wild, clothes wrinkled, and makeup smeared. I spent a minute straightening my clothes and dabbing away what was left of my makeup before attacking my hair, which stuck up in all directions. As I combed through it with my fingers, a flash of silver caught my eye, just on my hand. The ring. I was still wearing the ring.

I pulled the offending object off my finger and unbuttoned my shirt enough to stick it in my bra. I didn't even want to think about the questions I'd have to answer if one of my classmates saw me wearing an engagement ring, especially if that classmate happened to be Penny.

There were a few curious looks when I reentered the classroom, but Mrs. Pierce didn't stop teaching, which, for once, was a mercy. Penny tried to make eye contact, but I just shrugged. It was only second block, hardly noon. No way in hell I could make it through the rest of the school day; even through art, which I loved. When Mrs. Pierce's back was turned I managed to sneak a text to my mom, telling her I was getting a migraine and wanted to leave. She agreed to email the school to check me out so I could leave at the end of the block, so long as I wasn't missing anything important.

When the bell rang to signal class change, I made a dash for the door in order to dodge Penny's questions. I could always text her later, when I had come up with an acceptable explanation.

In the front office, my check out slip was taped to the glass window among a smattering of other ugly orange slips. You always had to be checked out by a parent. Even if you were eighteen, you couldn't check yourself out, something I had always found excessive. I snatched the slip with my name on it and scrambled to my car, a red Chevy Cruze. I didn't bother starting the car for several minutes, I just sat there, resting my head on my hands on the steering wheel, trying to figure out what to do next.

The problem that was causing me the most trouble was my parents. At first I thought that I should confront them; tell them I knew I was adopted. That's what I should do. But then I realized that I couldn't. The first question they'd ask would be: 'how did you find out?'

How the hell was I supposed to answer that? The truth was too bizarre… they'd either think I'd lost my mind, or was on drugs. They couldn't know that I knew.

I sighed and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my text messages. I had to get someone to confirm it, someone who would know but could keep a secret. I needed to hear it from someone I knew; not from an alien that thought kidnapping me was an ideal first date.

I finally stopped on my aunt's name, my mother's sister, she would know. Aunt Amanda was roughly seven years older than me, making her much closer to my age than to my mom's. We had always had a connection, and she always managed to understand when no other at least mostly adult figure would've. I could ask her about this.

I sent the message and awaited her response, just sitting and staring straight ahead at the front end of my car. I had no idea how long I sat there before I got her response.

She was heartbroken that I had found out, but agreed to keep quiet and accepted that I had worked it out under strange circumstances.

Afterward, I only had a vague impression of driving home. The Doctor had probably been right to ask if I was okay to drive, because I really wasn't. But my some miracle I managed to make it to my driveway without crashing or running someone over.

My house was a good distance away from anything, as it was nestled about a mile into woods and only accessible by a dirt road. The only other person on the road was Mrs. Alani, who lived much closer to the main road than my family did. She waved at me as I drove past from where she was watering her plants. It was almost December, so her flower bushes consisted only of dark green leaves instead of vibrant shades of pink. I didn't wave back.

I pulled into the yard and got out. I could already hear Vader barking excitedly in his deep, loud voice, thrilled that someone was home early. Vader was named Vader for good reason; with the body of a Newfoundland and wiry curls of a poodle mix, he was every bit as intimidating as he was a gigantic teddy bear.

It was my job to let him out everyday, as I was always the first one home. I spotted his large black head push past the curtains to peer at me with deep brown eyes. I unlocked the door, took a moment to prepare myself, and pushed the door open.

Vader rocketed past me, lapping the yard in his lumbering sprint before trucking it back to me to say hello. His hellos consisted of jumping up on his hind legs to pace his forelegs on my shoulders. On his back legs, he was almost as tall as I was, so I always ended up being shoved against the wall while he lapped drooly dog kisses all over my face.

I endured his greeting until he found something more interesting, in this case a stick that resembled a small tree, and escaped inside.

I went straight to bed, only pausing long enough to change out of my school clothes, before laying down and pulling the blankets up over my head.

I must've slept, because the next thing I knew, my mom was prodding me awake, saying it was time for dinner. I declined, saying that I still wasn't feeling well.

I stayed in bed, but checked my phone. Penny had texted.

' _Where'd you go? You left me all alone in math'._

' _Sorry',_ I sent back, ' _Got a migraine"._

' _Yeah, I feel. So what did the Roman want you for?'_

I thought for a minute. ' _Guy visiting the drama class',_ I texted back, ' _realized he knew my dad'._

' _Ah. Are you still coming to school tomorrow?'_

' _Probably not… I need to work on that history assignment anyway'._

' _Oh… yeah… isn't that due on Monday?"._

' _Have you started it yet?'_

' _When have I ever had my life that together?'_

' _Lol you should probably stay out tomorrow too'._

' _Think I might'._

I put down my phone and closed my eyes, but then opened them again. I didn't want to sleep any more. I turned on my lamp and wandered over to the tv in my room to turn it on.

My head was much clearer now, so I mulled over today's event with a much more critical mind. All of the people I had met seemed friendly, or at least the ones that claimed to be my friends did. I wished that I had paid more attention to Amy and Rory, River too. But I supposed I would see them again. Time travel… now that was a thought. For most of my life, I had obsessed over science fiction. I loved it and had always wanted some part of the worlds locked behind television screens or hidden between the lines of a book. And now, apparently, I had access. I was in. For the first time since I had been pulled into the TARDIS, I felt a glimmer of excitement, along with a flicker of doubt. I had half convinced myself that I had dreamed the whole thing up. Because it was all ridiculous, wasn't it? I had had strange dreams before, but none this especially vivid.

I grabbed my phone and checked my messages again. The conversation I'd had with my mom was still there, exactly as I remembered it, and so was the the one I'd had with my aunt. I needed something solid, something that could prove that what had happened and couldn't be explained by my mind warping reality.

The ring.

I had almost forgotten about the ring, my mind too preoccupied to recall that I still had it.

I reached down my t-shirt and rooted around in my bra until I found it. I held it under the light of my lamp, having not studied it yet.

It was beautiful. The ring itself was a sparkling silver. My first thought was that it was made of sterling silver, but it didn't reflect light the same way. A closer inspection revealed that the weaving metal was covered with minuscule intricate designs, carved into the silver in twisting patterns that flowed into and away from each other. The metal twisted up to the diamond, which was breathtaking in itself; the main jewel burned like white fire in the light, surrounded by six smaller stones placed at regular intervals that burned equally bright. Halfway between each of the smaller white jewels sat an even smaller blue one, collectively making the ring look like a large, glittering snowflake.

I slipped it on my ring finger. It fit perfectly. I moved my hand around, seeing what it looked like in different positions; in a fist, holding a pencil, laying flat against a book. At any point it was gorgeous, and very Doctor-y, I was forced to admit. Indeed the smallest stones were TARDIS blue, and in all the ring was every bit as breathtaking as anything else I'd seen today.

I sat down on the edge of my bed thoughtfully. I supposed I was engaged now. The Doctor had definitely acted like we were together, especially after that kiss in the hallway.

I went to the mirror and pulled my hair into a messy ponytail. I probably did need to eat. My mom had surely saved me some in case I decided that I wanted it, but I elected to remove the ring again before checking.


	5. Cockatoo In Converse

**Chapter Five: Cockatoo in Converse**

True to my word, I didn't go to school the next day. Although it was a Friday, I didn't have any tests, and I did need to finish the history assignment. I spent most of the morning completing it, though it didn't take very long, only being a two hundred word essay and a PowerPoint on World War II; especially since I had already written the essay.

With the rest of the day to my disposal, I elected to take my new sketchbook down to my spot by the creek. The Doctor's description of the place had been accurate; the water flowed under a tight thicket of bushes and fallen trees. The fallen trees had blocked off the water enough to where it slowed down to the point that lily pads could grow safely in the spring. The spot was shady overall, but sunlight dappled through the branches enough for plants to grow. I had found the place when I was about seven, and dubbed it my secret hideout. The only person I ever showed it to was Penny, and we had had many camp outs and adventures in our nature-made fort. Apparently the Doctor knew about it too, and we'd had a 'first' here. My guess was kiss, but I didn't want to assume.

I mostly came down here to draw, which is what I was doing now. I sat on the dry wood of a branch of what had once been a megalithic tree, long since blown over in a storm. The bark had been stripped from it, leaving the wood smooth and pale. To get an idea of how massive this tree had been, consider the fact that an adult could lay quite comfortably on their back on the branch alone.

The branch typically used as a seat was close enough to the main body of the tree that you could lean against it while sitting. Dirt had filled in the gap, left there when the water had risen during some heavy rains. Grass grew there now, making it into a lovely, elevated platform over the water.

I took out my PrismaColor pencils and began to work. I couldn't get the image of Amy and Rory out of my mind, when I first saw them. The colors had been so brilliant, white and red contrasting like blood and snow. I had extra space at the bottom, so I drew one of the lizard people to the best of my memory; but then the color scheme didn't balance right, so I sketched Doriam in the top corner. I was till doodling when when I heard footsteps.

"There you are", a cheerful voice that I didn't recognize greeted, "thought I might find you here".

I looked up to see a smiling face peering down through the branches at me with friendly brown eyes. The man climbed down the tree with expert precision, wearing a brown pinstripe suit, a trench coat, and light colored converse that seemed to provide more traction than you'd usually expect from a flat-bottomed shoe.

Nevertheless, he came down easily and sat down beside me in the dying grass.

"Thought you had school today?" He asked once he had settled. "It is Friday, isn't it? Last time I checked that was a school day". He peered at me with narrowed eyes. "You're not sick, are you?"

"Nah", I answered, not looking up, "I had a project to work on, but it didn't take me nearly as long to finish as I thought".

"Ah", he said, leaning back on his hands while his feet dangled over the edge of the branch.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was a skinny man with a narrow face and sideburns. His hair stuck out in all directions, making him most definitely look a bit like a cockatoo in human form. Ten.

Suddenly he flipped over onto his stomach and shimmied over to peer at my drawing.

"A Silurian?" He observed, looking at my drawing of Vastra, "It's quite good, though I don't know those other people".

"Not yet", I murmured, still trying to gauge him and wondering how much I should say when asked about things in his future.

The Doctor squirmed around on his stomach again, this time toward the end of the branch, stopping to that his head and shoulders dangled over the edge towards the water. He reached down to pull at some long stalks of grass. He was never still, that was for sure, always fidgeting and poking around like a small child. Then he suddenly paused, staring thoughtfully into the water for a moment before rolling to his back and sitting up. He leaned back, dangerously close to the edge, in my opinion, his hands curling around the end of the wood behind him. All it would take is a slight push or particularly strong wind to send him sprawling into the water. He didn't seem concerned, though, and just sat peering at me with dark brown eyes narrowed in thought.

"Monet", he said after a moment, his voice was gentle but had an edge to it that insisted I answer him truthfully, "Tell me… have you seen this face before?"

I blinked at him in surprise for a second. I'd said what, less than thirty words to him? Was it really that obvious? I looked back at my art and darkened the outline of Rory's cape. "No, this is the first".

"Really?" He said, fascinated. "You're young then, really young. Really, really young. Oh, that is incredible".

I looked up to see him studying me with a huge grin. I furrowed my brow in return.

"But I take it that you have met me before, just not this me. Older me… not this face. Future me… oh, I've got a future! That's nice to know. Blimey! You're the youngest I've ever seen you. How many times have you met me? Any of me?"

"Once before now", I answered, still studying him. He seemed thrilled.

"Oh, wow. Really? Just the once? This is the second time you've ever seen me? That is brilliant". He stood, dusted himself off, and extended a hand to help me up. "Right, then, seems like I've got an impression to make. Fancy a little trip?"

I examined his outstretched hand skeptically for a moment before taking it and he pulled me to my feet. "Yeah, why not?"

He didn't let go of my hand as he led me towards the TARDIS. She was parked beside my back door, which made sense since he had supposedly been looking for me. If he hadn't found me at school, the next place he would check would be the house.

Suddenly Vader came bounding around the corner, barking angrily but wagging his tail at the same time. Most people would've shied away at the sight of a bear-like dog charging towards them, but the Doctor only smiled.

"Hello, Vader. How are we today?" He let go of my hand to feel around in one of his jacket's inside pockets. "Hold on, I've got it here". The Doctor produced a dog treat that was fish shaped and an alarming shade of orange. "There we are!"

Vader stopped his mad approach to sniff at the treat. He wagged. Once. Twice. Then a hundred times as he gently took the treat out of the Doctor's hand. The Doctor scratched the dog's ears for a moment before taking my hand back up and unlocking the TARDIS. I followed him in.

The Doctor shrugged off his coat and tossed it over a coral-like support beam as he bounded over to the controls. The TARDIS looked different this time, it's bright and colorful futuristic demeanor replaced by a more grungy atmosphere. There were no stairs, the floor entirely consisted of metal grating through which I could see wiring and storage containers. The room was just as big as the future on I'd seen, but instead of the console being situated on an elevated platform, it was placed straight ahead, dead center of the space. Closer inspection revealed that there was a lower level, down below the grating. The coral-shaped support beams were spaced evenly around the room, reaching up to the ceiling high above. Now that I had been more prepared for the world inside the box, I could appreciate it instead of being stunned beyond comprehension. It was breathtaking. I felt the TARDIS hum a greeting from inside my head.

While I took in the surroundings the Doctor was winding up something on the console. He watched me while he cranked, grinning.

"I take it it's not your first time in the TARDIS?" He asked.

"No", I answered, still looking at the ceiling, "But I was a bit distracted last time".

The Doctor chuckled and loped to the other side of the console. I followed and stood beside him.

"Were to?" He asked, a hand on the lever that would send them hurtling through space and time.

"Uh…". My mind blanked at the question. It was worse than suddenly being told you could choose dinner out of any restaurant within driving distance. "Dunno… surprise me".

The Doctor groaned dramatically. "Oh, so indecisive. Tell you what, I'll set it to random. We'll let the TARDIS decide".

He pressed a few buttons and pulled the lever. This time I was ready for the jolt and clung onto the side of the console.


	6. Partners in Crime: Part One

**Chapter Six: Partners in Crime Part One**

The Doctor opened the TARDIS door and I slipped outside. We were in the middle of a city, a human city, by the looks of it. And it was definitely at least close to the time period we had just left. The cars were all modern and the people dressed the same.

"Where are we?" I asked as the Doctor followed me out.

"Oh, good old London", he responded cheerfully. He pulled up his jacket sleeve and looked at the watch on his wrist. "And… 2008, I believe. Not exactly a futuristic alien world, but there's usually something to do".

"Never been to London", I mused, walking over to pick up a discarded magazine. "And yeah, 2008. I was what? Eight? Nearly nine?"

"You'd just turned nine", he confirmed as he wandered over to peer over my shoulder at the magazine I was flipping through. "Hold on, what was that?"

I flipped back a couple pages and he stopped me at a page dedicated to a weight loss ad.

"Adipose", I read. "It's a weight loss program. What's so strange about that?"

The Doctor didn't answer, just kept studying the page.

"There are hundreds programs like this", I tried again, "And it's a magazine aimed at beauty for women. Not exactly unique".

"Adipose", he murmured distractedly, "Rings a bell".

"Adipose is a type of tissue, isn't it? Stores fat".

"Yeah…", he mumbled, pulling out a pair of reading glasses. "But there's something else though. Actually, you've got your phone, don't you? Pull it out, look them up for me".

"Okay… but will my phone work? It's 2008?"

"It'll still connect to the internet just fine. And remind me to adjust your phone when we get back to the TARDIS, I'll need to upgrade it".

I got my phone out of my pocket and it connected to the wifi of a nearby coffee shop. Within a few moments I'd pulled up the company's website.

"Adipose Industries", I read, "Slogan: The fat just walks away. It started up a couple years ago". I scrolled down. "By a woman named Miss. Foster. Apparently they have pretty good results. That's weird…".

"What?" The Doctor asked impatiently.

"All the reviews are excellent… five stars. I know that doesn't sound weird, but how does a large scale product get five stars from everyone? Everything is hated by someone. Apple, Coca-cola, Dora the Explorer… No matter how good the product is, there is always someone that finds something to complain about".

The Doctor looked impressed. "Good point. I mean… they could just be deleting all the bad reviews…".

"But you don't think that", I interrupted. "You think there's something else". He raised an eyebrow. "You've got a bad poker face".

The Doctor grinned cheekily. "Where are they based?"

"Uh…". I scrolled back up to the top of the page. "London. Not too far from here. Less than half a mile. What makes you think there's something fishy going on?"

The Doctor had already started off, leaving me to struggle after him and his long legs. "The TARDIS, mostly. She never lands somewhere boring if she can help it. She landed us so close to their base of operation. That and Adipose… There's something about it that I can't shake". He stopped at the end of the sidewalk. "Which way, navigator?"

I glanced at the map I'd pulled up again. "This way", I angled my head to indicate the direction and started walking, the Doctor at my side.

"How come no one is freaking out about the TARDIS?" I asked, "Like, we landed mostly inside an alley, but surely someone saw".

The Doctor didn't break his stride. "Humans, so unobservant. You'd be surprised what people will ignore… especially if it's something that doesn't fit into what they expect to see".

I could understand that. Hiding in plain sight. "Just this way". I turned down another street and a mostly glass building came into view. "That's it. Are we just gonna walk in? Ask if they're doing stuff they're not supposed to?"

"Yes... well… no. Not exactly". The Doctor set off again and led the way to the back of the building where there was a fire exit. He looked around to make sure no one was watching before pulling out a device similar to the one I saw the older Doctor use.

"What's that?" I asked, nodding towards it.

He held it up. "Sonic screwdriver? Did I not show it to you before?"

"I saw you use it. But I didn't ask".

"Well, it's a screwdriver… and it's sonic". He pointed it at the lock of the glass door and pressed the button on it. There was a brief whirring sound before the locked sparked violently and unlocked. "It's good at opening things". The Doctor pulled the door open and we both went inside.

We passed a security guard as we walked through the basement. The Doctor didn't seem concerned. He simply pulled out what looked like a wallet or ID case and flashed it for the guard to see without breaking his stride. "John Smith, Health and Safety".

The guard let us pass without incident. When we were safely past him, I turned to the Doctor to ask what he'd shown him.

"Psychic Paper", he answered before I could ask, "Shows people whatever I want them to think".

"John Smith?" I asked instead.

"Well, it raises fewer questions than 'the Doctor', doesn't it?"

After poking around for a bit, we ended up in the projector room of a large presentation hall. The lady, Miss Foster, was giving a presentation on the Adipose pill. The Doctor peered ot the small window at the video that was playing. I could hear it but couldn't see it, as the Doctor's head was in the way.

The person working the projector looked at us questioningly. "Health and Safety", the Doctor said quickly, showing the psychic paper again. "Film Department", he added awkwardly.

Miss Foster finished her presentation, so the Doctor and I slipped back out of the projection room.

"Mobilizing?" I echoed the video curiously, "That's some interesting word choice, isn't it? Though I guess it could be that they want it to go along with the 'walking away' theme. But in a scientific explanation, it sounds out of place. You'd usually think, 'flush away' or something like that. But to mobilize cells? Where do they mobilize to?"

"Exactly", the Doctor agreed. "The science was sound, but there were some funny twists in it".

"What are we doing now?"

"I want to get a customer list. We need to visit some people and check out the effects first hand".

We found a call center room, full of people in cubicles and headsets, all repeating 'hello I represent Adipose Industries' so it became a droning mantra.

"Tell you what", the Doctor said thoughtfully, "I'll go get the customer list, you go back downstairs and flag down that journalist… what was her name… Penny Carter? It looked like she knew something".

I nodded and we split up. Penny Carter wasn't hard to find. I only had to go back towards the presentation hall. I found her a little ways down the hall, haggling another representative.

"Excuse me?" I asked, "Penny Carter?"

Penny turned on me with, sharp, intelligent eyes. "Yeah, that's me".

"Sorry, to interrupt". I extended my hand for her to shake. "Monet English. Health and Safety. I heard you during the presentation", I looked around to see if anyone was listening and stepped a little closer so I could speak in a lower tone. "You sounded skeptical about Miss Foster. We're doing an investigation too… something isn't adding up, but I can't put my finger on it".

Penny nodded in agreement. She glanced at the people nearby too. "What has Health and Safety got to do with any of this?"

"Depends. There might be something up our alley, might not. Either way, it's something we report or we're just being proactive. Either way… it's worth our time".

"What, British Health and Safety and you're an American?"

I shrugged. "Jobs the same no matter what country you're in".

"I've been checking the records", she whispered after a moment's consideration. "A lot of data has been falsified. You know, test results and stuff. Not to mention that hundreds of their customer's don't actually exist".

"Thought so", I murmured.

Penny raised an eyebrow.

"I was checking out their website", I explained, "every single review has been five stars. You're a reporter, don't you think that's a bit fishy?"

She nodded. "That is odd. And, if you want really strange… they've got a collection squad. Armed guards in big vans that drive about at night".

"Doing what?" I hissed incredulously.

"Exactly". Penny looked around again. "Anyway, I've got to get back to it".

I nodded. "Yeah, me too. Thanks a lot".

I turned to head back upstairs when she stopped me again. "Oh, and between you and me… If Health and Safety does find something worth reporting…" She pulled out a business card and gave it to me. "Do me a favor, give me an exclusive".

I grinned knowingly and continued on my way. I found the Doctor bobbing back to a woman at a computer, looking extremely uncomfortable despite the large, but painted on, grin. I smirked. It didn't take an expert to figure out the source of his discomfort, looking at the woman's smug expression. Within a few moments he had snatched up some freshly printed papers and joined me at the door.

"Got a date?" I asked cheekily when he reached me.

He scowled but ignored the question. "What did Penny have to say?"

I snorted. "She said that there was a lot of falsified data, results. They've made up some customers too. But the most interesting thing is that they have armed guards in vans that drive around at night, doing God knows what. She even said 'collection squad'".

"Collection squad", he repeated distractedly.

"Collecting what, though?"

"The fat just walks away".

"Huh?" We'd made it outside now. "Are you saying that the fat really does walk away? Does it grow legs and run home?" I shuddered at the implications, then shrugged. "We'll, though as far as weight loss plans go… it's probably the least stressful one I've heard of".

The Doctor wrinkled his nose and made a noise of disagreement but didn't comment. I noticed that he still had a business card with a number scribbled on it. I grinned and took the opportunity to tease him further.

"Aww, she gave you her number, too".

The Doctor blinked down at the card, just realizing that he still had it on the top of the stack of papers he was carrying. He frowned at it before tossing it away carelessly.

"Oh, but it could've been love!" I cried, bouncing around him playfully.

"Oi, shut it!" He whined as he passed me the stack so he could unlock the TARDIS. I followed him in, still laughing. "Pick a name on the list and tell me the address".

"Roger Davey", I said, picking the first name that jumped out at me.

Within two minutes we were knocking at Mr. Davey's door.

"Mr. Roger Davey", the Doctor said confidently as soon as the man opened his door, "I'm calling on behalf of Adipose Industries". He showed him the psychic paper. "Just need to ask you a few questions".

Roger led us in and motioned for us to sit. I sat on the couch while Roger took his place in his arm chair. The Doctor however, elected to stand.

"I've been on the pills two weeks now. I've lost fourteen kilos", Roger said, watching as the Doctor paced about in front of him.

"That's the same amount every day?"

"One kilo exactly", Roger confirmed, "You wake up, and it's disappeared over night. Well, technically speaking, it's gone by ten past one in the morning".

I looked up from where I had been fiddling with his houseplant. It was easy to guess the man's favorite color… there was hardly an object visible that wasn't some shade of green.

The Doctor was as interested by the statement as I was. "What makes you say that?"

"That's when I get woken up", Roger said affably, "might as well weigh myself at the same time". He leaned forward earnestly. "It is driving me mad. Ten past one in the morning, every night, bang on the dot, without fail, the burglar alarm goes off".

Roger took us out to look at the alarm that was fixated outside, right over his front door. We were all looking up at it as he spoke. "I've had experts in, I've had it replaced. I've even phoned Watchdog. But no, ten past one in the morning, off it goes".

"But with no burglar?"

"Nothing. I've given up looking".

Something caught my eye. "You have a cat flap", I commented, nodding at the base of the door.

The Doctor looked down and spotted it too. He got down on the ground to peer through it, holding the flap up with his screwdriver. Roger got down to look through with him, but I stayed standing, watching them in bemusement.

"It was here when I bought the house. I never bothered with it really", Roger's voice rose from where the two men lay on the ground. "I'm not a cat person".

"No, I've met cat people. You're nothing like them", the Doctor concurred absently.

"Is that what it is though, cats getting inside the house?"

"Well, the thing about cat flaps is that don't just let things in, they let things out as well".

"Like what?"

"'The fat just walks away'", the Doctor quoted dramatically. Then he sprung back to his feet. "Well, thanks for your help. Tell you what, maybe you could lay off the pills for a week or so…" He was interrupted by an insistent beeping coming from his coat. He pulled out a strange device that was small with red lights. He pointed it down the street and it gave a confirmation beep. He started running. "Gotta go! Sorry!"

I flashed the confused Roger a smile before tearing off after my friend. I followed him down the road, around street corners and even through someone's garden. I caught up to him when he crossed a road but then backtracked, right into the path of an oncoming van. It beeped and he managed to sidestep out of the way, only to chase after it when the device told him that the van was what it was tracking. We followed it for a short distance before he gave up the chase, panting and frustrated.

"That was one of their vans", I gasped when I skidded to a stop at his side.

"Yeah, I know", he growled, sonic-ing the sensor.

"So what now?"

"Now…". He put the screwdriver back in his pocket. "Back to the TARDIS. Get some rest and we'll try again tomorrow".

"Tomorrow?" I echoed. "We really going to wait that long?"

The Doctor had already started back to where we had left the ship. "Yeah. Tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. And at any rate, it'll be much harder to sneak in unnoticed now. All of the employees will be leaving. We'll stand out way too much. Not to mention that humans do, in fact, need to sleep".

Now that he mentioned it, I WAS hungry and starting to get tired. The Doctor slipped my hand into his and I listened to him talk while we walked.

"That explains those quirks in the science that I was talking about. Living beings forming from the fat of other organisms. Definitely alien technology. Now, that I think about it, there are several species that fit that description… suppose we'll just have to ask Miss Foster when we get there. Anyway, what are you thinking for dinner? I'm fancying chips, myself. Or fries… in American terminology. French fries…though they're not even French. They originated in Belgium. Very tasty though, no matter what you call them. Ah, here we are". He unlocked the door and I followed him inside.

Halfway across the console room he spun around but kept walking backwards. "That reminds me, I haven't given you a key yet, have I?" He reached into his coat and pulled out a silver key on a chain. "There you are. Never have to worry about being locked out".


	7. Homecoming

**Chapter Seven: Homecoming**

The kitchen was more or less the same as it was… or as it will be. The only significant difference was that the wall that had been… would be… burgundy was currently a dusty blue.

"Sandwiches and chips. How's that sound?"

It sounded pretty good to me. The Doctor made the fries and tea while I worked on the sandwiches, turkey and cheese for me, peanut butter and banana for him ("Banana's are good, Monet!"). We split the fries and sat to eat in the same spots we sat in when the older Doctor made me tea. I chewed on my sandwich and listened to the Doctor have a mostly one sided conversation with himself about aliens made of fats and how it was against the Shadow Proclamation ("Space police") while I occasionally chipped in to ask a question, which he happily answered in length. The Doctor seemed thrilled to have someone to talk to, like he was trying to get in a word count while there was someone there to listen. I wondered if he was lonely. The future Doctor had had Amy and Rory, but this one had shown up alone. Even though I didn't know him all that well yet, I could tell that he was attention starved. I felt a pang of concern and pity. He didn't deserve to be alone.

Suddenly the Doctor stood and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Alright then, nighty-night. Sleep well. The TARDIS should wake you when we need to get going. She's rather good with time, for some reason". He grinned and walked out, leaving me slightly confused.

My first thought was that he had remembered something that he needed to do, but I couldn't help but wonder if he had sensed my train of thought, my sudden concern for his solitude. I shook the feeling off. Probably not, he was just a bit restless. My next concern was where I was supposed to sleep. I assumed I had a bedroom somewhere, but I hadn't found it yet. I put up my plate and felt a tug at my mind. It was the TARDIS again. She knew where it was and was more than happy to show me.

So I wandered the halls with no real destination in mind, letting the TARDIS guide me with urges to go a certain way and turn down certain corridors. Then I found it, a wooden door with my name neatly printed in a loopy gold font on the dark wood. I smiled, mentally thanked her, and pushed my way in.

My room was very, well, me. The walls were lilac, lined with white moulding. There was a dark blue couch facing a television, a short coffee table in between. Just beyond that was the doorway to a decent sized bathroom with periwinkle walls. The main room extended to a small table with three chairs and a small kitchen, which made sense because the main, giant kitchen was only a short walk away. But mine had a coffee maker and an arrangement of snacks. The bed was behind a sliding door behind the couch, making it a separate room from the rest of the apartment. It looked fairly lived in, as indicated by the Star Wars mug sitting on the coffee table, half filled with the remnants of some tea a future me must've made but forgotten about, and the odd water bottle and clothing article that hadn't been put away.

I spent a few moments cleaning up after my future self before examining the closet. There was a large assortment of clothes inside. I picked out a pair of pajamas that I had never seen before. Well, they were mine, or will be mine. I aimed for the bathroom to take a shower. There were obvious signs of me in there too. The soap I liked and the shampoo I used were waiting, as was a toothbrush that looked a lot like the one I had back at home.

Half an hour later, I curled up in bed and went to sleep, noting that the clock beside the bed had both a setting for 'Time Slept' and "Orient Local Time'.


	8. The Waiting Game

**Chapter Eight: The Waiting Game**

I didn't know how long I slept, but suddenly I was wide awake. Not sure what had woken me, I pressed the 'Orient Local Time' button. The clock read 5:30 am. Well, the Doctor had said that the TARDIS would wake me up when it was time to get up, so I assumed that was what she had done. Damn good alarm clock, too. No noise. No being startled awake. Just... boom... you're up.

The TARDIS hummed in amusement.

I rummaged through the closet again and found that most of it followed my usual style. I picked out a burgundy button up shirt that was covered with a pattern of tiny green leaves and a pair of pale green highwaisted pants. I even took a minute to put on a bit of makeup and snacked on a bagel I'd found in the fridge before the TARDIS urged me towards the console room.

The Doctor was waiting. He looked up from the wires he was fiddling with and grinned.

"Ah, there you are. Just in time".

"Yeah, like you said, your time machine makes a good alarm clock".

"I believe I said 'good with time'".

"Meh, same thing". I came over and leaned on against the console beside him. "So what are we doing about the Adipose, or whatever they are?"

"Well, the first thing we need to do is get in". He looked slightly sheepish.

"Yeah, I got that part. So are we doing Health and Safety again? You could meet up with that chick that had the hots for you".

"Oi! Stop it with the girl! And no… not exactly…".

I raised my eyebrows.

The rubbed the back of his neck. "We need to get in after hours, and no one can suspect anything. That's why we couldn't go last night, because we would've been noticed, sneaking back in…".

"So get in earlier… hide until closing?"

The Doctor nodded. "We need to go in when everyone else is, get lost in the crowd, hide, and wait until everyone leaves".

I suddenly understood his hesitation. "Ah… so a really long stake out".

"Yeah… about ten hours".

"Why can't we take the TARDIS in?"

"We'd be taking one of the most powerful ships in the universe and dropping her right in the hands of a potentially hostile alien race. No. Not risking it".

I sighed and started back down the corridor.

"Where are you going?" He called after me.

"To get a book", I called back over my shoulder, "and my phone charger. Some snacks too. We'll get hungry".

"Just hurry up", he whined, "We don't have long".

A short while later we were both wandering down the same basement hallway that we'd been down yesterday. I was carrying a small messenger bag full of food and things to entertain myself with, and the Doctor was scanning the doors of different closets that we passed.

"Ah… here we are!"

The Doctor unlocked the chosen closet with his screwdriver while I watched.

"What's so special about this one? We passed, like, at least six others that were exactly the same".

"Eight others", he corrected, having unlocked the door and ambled inside. "And this one is different. If you'll notice… there's a nice big panel on the back wall of this one". I followed him in and shut the door behind me. The Doctor locked the door back with the sonic.

"What kind of panel?"

"The kind I need to get a better understanding of what we're up against". He directed his screwdriver to the back panel, and within a minute, it popped off to reveal a complicated sort of computer. There wasn't much of a screen, but the hardware was definitely alien, glowing and green with strange symbols.

The Doctor knelt down and began sonic-ing the controls. "She's wired up the whole building", he muttered, half to me and half to himself, completely absorbed.

I sat down on the floor with my back against the wall and watched him for a moment before pulling out my PrismaColors and sketchbook. I couldn't think of anything to draw, so I pulled out a book instead, _The Book Thief._ I had already read it countless times, but had fallen in love with the artistic language the author used.

The Doctor quickly got bored with the panel. He then spent a good thirty minutes fidgeting about while pulling out and apart every item in the closet, but then gave up, sat down, and slumped beside me.

"I may have underestimated this whole 'waiting' thing", he said glumly.

"Didn't you say you needed to upgrade my phone?" I asked, looking up from my book.

The Doctor brightened at that. "Yeah, I do. I've got the chip right here", he reached into his jacket.

I passed him my phone and he popped of the back to begin wiring in what looked like a SIM card. That kept him occupied for roughly another forty-five minutes, and then he was bored again. It was clear that he wasn't used to being forced to sit still. I honestly didn't mind it all that much, having been acclimated to being forced to sit still for six hours a day. At least I could more or less do what I wanted to here and not have to pretend to be paying attention.

"How long have we been in here?" He grumped after a while of silence.

I checked my phone. "Oh, about two hours".

The Doctor groaned and slid down to lay on his back. "This is torture. How do human students stand it. Would you read to me? Just start wherever you are".

So I did. I read out loud to him for another hour and a half before getting tired of reading. The Doctor had dozed off, lying on his back with his head resting on my leg.

I brought out my sketchbook and pencils and began drawing. I drew the TARDIS, the library… to the best of my memory… I would have to go back there, after this… and the console room, both ten's and eleven's. When I had exhausted my idea bank I started drawing the Doctor, nothing else in the room being worthy of any attention; not to mention that I had a model to base the drawing on, perfectly still and dead to the world.

So I dedicated a page to mastering the shape of his eyes, half a page to nose and lips and the other half to hair, noticed he had freckles and smile wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, and started on a portrait.

The Doctor sighed contentedly in his sleep. I looked down and noticed that I had been toying with his hair distractedly. I stopped, feeling a bit awkward and embarrassed. I knew that he wouldn't mind, but for me, it was an uncomfortably intimate gesture for someone I'd just met.

I had just about finished when I looked down to recheck the shading around his nose to see that he was frowning. Although plainly still fast asleep, his face had contorted into a painful, twitching grimace, very plainly indicating a nightmare. I watched him sadly, unsure of how to comfort him. My heart broke when he started whimper stressfully while his hands clenched and unclenched, grasping at thin air.

I took his face in both of my hands, making soothing noises while I ran my fingers through his hair, scratched at his scalp, and rubbed at his sideburns, remembering that he'd liked it when I'd done that earlier.

The nightmare escalated, causing him to actually cry out. I tried to wake him.

"Doctor… Doctor…" I said, keeping my voice calm but firm as I patted his cheek insistently.

It worked and he sat up sharply, gasping for breath. His hands shot up to feel his chest, neck, and face before stopping to tug at his hair, his eyes wild and out of focus from sleep. I reached out for him and pulled him into a tight embrace that he returned eagerly.

"It's okay", I murmured into his ear, "it was just a dream. You're alright".

We sat there for a few minutes, him clinging to me desperately, half-flung across my lap while I rubbed his back in large, soothing circles.

Eventually he pulled away and sat up.

"Thanks", he muttered shyly, looking a tad embarrassed.

I reached out and rubbed one of his sideburns with my index finger. He seemed to relax a bit at the contact.

"You slept hard", I commented, trying to divert his attention away from the nightmare. "Did you not sleep very good last night?"

"Well… actually I didn't sleep", he answered, and upon seeing my expression added quickly, "Timelords don't need sleep like humans do… a lot less. I usually go on about four or five hours a week. Just thought that I'd get a jump on it, seeing that I'd be stuck in here…".

"Good time to do it, I suppose", I kept my tone cheerful, "Got some drawing in".

"Anything good?"

"Sort of", I answered, glancing around for my sketchbook. I reached over to where it had landed when it got knocked off my lap. "Sketches mostly. Though I did do one of you".

I flipped to my mostly-finished portrait of him. He beamed. "But that's brilliant! You are fantastic, I love it". He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder. "What else have you done while I was out?"

I showed him my other sketches, carefully flipping around the one of his future TARDIS. He seemed to have completely forgotten about his nightmare, all cheerful and energetic again.

"What time is it now?" He asked at last.

"Uh… nearly six".

"Fantastic. We'll wait about another twenty minutes".

"Want a snack before we go?" I asked, reaching for my bag. "You were asleep when I had lunch".


	9. Partners in Crime: Part Two

**Chapter Nine: Partners in Crime; Part Two**

The Doctor unlocked the closet door and peered out, checking both ways before striding down the corridor, stretching a bit as he went. I followed closely, only pausing a moment to stretch out my hamstrings; my butt had gone numb sitting on the floor that long.

We went to the roof, where the Doctor saw a window washer's platform. He sprinted over to it eagerly and climbed up the ladder and into the bucket-like part of it. He soniced it after I climbed in and we went down. I tried to ignore the jolt in my stomach when I looked over the edge. Now was not the time to get squeamish about heights. They'd never really bothered me before, but there was something about going down a building in a rickety old bucket twenty stories up to spy on aliens that made my stomach twist.

The Doctor seemed to know exactly what floor he wanted to go to, stopping precisely level to the window of a cushy office.

"Miss Foster's office", he explained before I could ask.

He was about to open the window when the office doors bursted open, slamming against the walls to allow the entry of Miss Foster, two guards armed with automatic weapons, and to my surprise, Penny Carter. The Doctor and I automatically ducked down before we could be seen. I was glad that the bucket was just low enough to be hidden behind the wall beneath the window. The Doctor brought out a stethoscope from his jacket and held the end to the glass. I didn't have anything to listen with, so I tried to make out what the distorted voices were saying.

Penny was in some kind of trouble, that much I could tell.

"...editor", I heard her say.

More mumbling.

"...beautifully fat…", Miss Foster voice leaked through the wall.

More mumbling.

"...spark of life…". Miss Foster again. Something...Something... "body".

I could hear the tone of Penny asking a question.

"... as in 'foster mother'", Miss Foster sounded full of herself.

The Doctor was making a face, and I imagined I was as well.

A new voice entered the conversation, a high pitched, squeaking one. The Doctor slowly lifted his head to peer over the wall and I did the same. The was a tiny marshmallow thing on Miss Foster's desk, with arms and legs and eyes. I watched in bewilderment for moment before movement in the small, round window of the door caught my eye. A woman with bright red hair was looking through the window, watching the people inside just like we were. I elbowed the Doctor and flicked my head toward the window.

He and the woman spotted each other at the same time. They were equally surprised. The Doctor just looked stunned, but the woman seemed thrilled, her mouth gaping open to form the shape of a shocked circle.

"Who's that?" I hissed to the Doctor.

He payed me no mind. _Donna?_ He mouthed.

 _Doctor!_ She mouthed back, still wide eyed with excitement. _Monet!_

 _What.. Wha…_

 _Oh. My. God._ She looked as if she were about to start hyperventilating.

 _How?_ The Doctor was starting to look increasingly confused.

 _It's me!_ Donna pointed to her face with both hands.

 _Yeah, I can see that._ The Doctor mimed the 'see you' thing with his hand.

 _Oh, this is brilliant!_ Two thumbs up.

 _What the hell are you doing there?_

 _I was looking. For._ She held up four fingers. _You!_

The Doctor pointed to himself. _What for?_

Donna mimed everything she was trying to communicate… emphasis on 'trying'. _I was reading. On the internet._ Octopus. Spider. Walking. What? _Them talking._ I watched her duck down below the door to emphasize 'sneaking'. _You! Cos they…_

She froze, her tongue sticking out slightly while pointing with her thumb. Both the Doctor and I looked at the people in the room. Crap. We'd forgotten about them.

Miss Foster looked from Donna to us. "Are we interrupting you?"

The Doctor turned his attention to Donna. _Run!_

Donna vanished from view and the Doctor locked the door behind her with the sonic before pointing it straight up, making the bucket ascend rapidly.

"Who was that?" I gasped as we quickly climbed back down the ladder.

"That was Donna", he explained as we sprinted into the building and and down the stairs. "A friend of ours. You've met her before. Or will meet her, anyway".

Donna met us halfway up the stairwell. She launched herself at the Doctor, wrapping him in a tight hug before doing the same to me.

"Oh, my God!" she cried, "I don't believe it! You've even got the same suit". Her tone changed from ecstatic to critical, "Don't you ever change?"

I decided that I liked Donna.

"Yeah, thanks, Donna. Not right now", the Doctor huffed.

We heard Miss Foster and her guards burst through the door from somewhere below.

The Doctor grinned. "Just like old times".

We sprinted up the stairs, Miss Foster was about four floors behind, I estimated. The Doctor and Donna seemed set on the roof, but I had another idea. About two floors away from the top, I cut off from the stairwell and into a connecting hallway, making sure to pull the door shut quickly without it making a sound while closing. I froze for a moment, listening as the footsteps thundered past. Then silence.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and snuck back out into the stairwell, now rushing back downstairs toward the office where I saw Penny and the alien.

Penny Carter was exactly as I had last saw her, tied to a chair, confused and fuming.

"What the hell is going on?" She demanded when I ran through the door. "You? What are you doing here?"

"Investigating. This place is a Health and Safety nightmare", I puffed, grinning. "You should've seen the state of that window washer bucket".

I untied her quickly and went over to Miss Foster's desk, where I opened her bottom drawer. The tiny alien squeaked up at me, waving a tiny, fat arm in greeting.

I picked it up gently and sat it on the desk. It definitely felt like a kilogram of fat, squishy like a marshmallow but much denser.

"Hello, little friend", I muttered to it. It looked a bit like a cartoon rendering of an owl chick.

"What the hell is that?" Penny Carter gasped, staring at it in shock.

"An alien", I laughed, poking it in the stomach gently and watching it squirm gleefully. "A little, baby alien".

Penny was about to reply when we were distracted by a thud from the window. I could just see a pair of feet kicking at it.

"What the hell?" We both said at the same time.

I rushed over to the window and peered as far up as I could. "Donna?" I cried before struggling to open the window. It wouldn't budge no matter what I did.

Suddenly the Doctor burst back into the room and ran over to help.

"There you are!" he cried. I looked over to see relief flash across his face briefly. Had he been worried?

"Yeah. But forget me. What the hell did you do to Donna?"

"Oh, it's my fault is it?" He used what appeared to be a new sonic screwdriver to open the window.

"More than likely".

After some awkward struggling, we managed to pull her inside.

Donna straightened her jacket huffily. "I was right. It's alway like this with you isn't it?"

"Oh, yes!" The Doctor cried, grinning from ear to ear.

"Apparently", I agreed.

"And off we go!" The Doctor laughed before taking off at a run again.

I turned toward Penny as I followed him. "Go! Get out of here!" I called over my shoulder to where she was standing, dumbstruck.

We met Miss Foster in the room full of work cubicles, keeping a good ten yards in between us. My mind flickered back to a western movie that I had seen; a stand off at high noon. Except with aliens at 7:30 PM in London.

"Well, then", Miss Foster started, taking off her glasses slowly. "At last".

"Hello", Doctor returned while I nodded and Donna waved uncomfortably. "Nice to meet you. I'm the Doctor".

"And I'm Donna".

"Monet", I chirped, making sure I was smiling easily.

"Partners in crime", Foster simpered, "And apparently off-worlders, judging by your sonic technology".

"Oh, yes", the Doctor started patting down his jacket, "I've still got your sonic pen". He pulled it out and held it where she could see. "Nice. I like it. Sleek". He held it towards me and Donna.

"It's kind of sleek", I commented.

"Oh, It's definitely sleek", Donna confirmed.

The Doctor turned back to Foster. "And if you were to sign your real name, that would be…?"

"Matron Cofelia of the Five-Straighten Classabindi Nursery Fleet", she rattled off, "Intergalactic class".

"A wet nurse", the Doctor sighed, "Using humans as surrogates".

"I've been employed by the Adiposian First Family to foster a new generation after their breeding planet was lost".

"What do you mean, lost? How do you lose a planet?" The Doctor asked incredulously.

"Oh, the politics are none of my concern. I'm just here to take care of the children on behalf of the parents".

'What, like an outer space supernanny?" Dona asked incredulously.

"Yes, if you like", Foster said cheerfully.

"Kinda hard to to take care of a bunch of tiny marshmallows when you're running a business", I commented.

"Yes, well, I I have helpers, of course".

"So.. so those little things, they're made out of fat, yeah?" Donna was speaking again. "But that woman, Stacy Campbell, there was nothing left of her".

God.

"Oh, in a crisis, the Adipose can convert bone and hair and internal organs", Foster said like it was to most normal thing in the world. "It makes them a bit sick, poor things".

Donna was every bit as disgusted as I was. "What about poor Stacy?" She snapped.

The Doctor hid his emotions well, simply stating, "Seeding a ;level five planet is against galactic law".

If that bothered her, Miss Foster didn't show it. "Are you threatening me?"

The Doctor watched her for a moment through quiet eyes. "I'm trying to help you, Matron", he said softly. "This is your one chance. 'Cause if you don't call this off, then I'll have to stop you".

It did sound a bit threat-y.

Foster's expression did not change. "I hardly think you can stop bullets".

Her guards primed their weapons and aimed them at us. We all took half a step back, tensed and ready to run. The Doctor also took half a step sideways so that he was partially in front of me.

"No, hold on, hold on, hold on! One more thing, before dying", the Doctor shouted, pulling out his sonic now as well. "Do you know what happens if you hold two identical sonic devices against each other?"

Foster gave a tense sigh, clearly not at all interested. "No".

The Doctor gave a grin that was the embodiment of 'fuck it'. "Nor me. Let's find out".

The noise the sonics made was terrible. A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad sound. Glass shattered and I clamped my hands over my ears. Donna, Foster, and her guards were doing the Doctor had a focused, almost maniacal expression on his face.

After a few seconds Donna shoved the Doctor roughly, making him break the sonics' connection. "Come on!"

The three of us took off running again, heading back downstairs to the basement. The Doctor shoved the door the the closet open roughly and went straight to the panel he had been examining earlier. This time he started shoving stuff out of the way, throwing buckets and mops out of the closet while Donna and I watched from the door.

"Well, that's one solution", Donna commented, "Hiding in a cupboard. I like it".

I didn't bother to correct her, too busy dodging a safety vest that flew by my head.

"Been hacking into this thing all day 'cause the Matron's got a computer core running through the centre of the building. Triple deadlocked". The Doctor explained urgently

"Well, not all day", I added, "More like thirty minutes".

He ignored me. The panel opened up again the reveal the green computer. The Doctor got out Foster's pen. "But now I've got this, I can get into it". He turned back to the computer. "She's wired up the whole building. We need a bit of privacy". I saw electricity jump between the two cords he was holding together and heard screams from somewhere not too far away. "Just enough to stop them", he muttered to himself. "Why has she wired up a tower block?"

"More computing power?" I offered, "Beacon? Transponder?"

"Maybe", he muttered, stripping and sonicing wires.

Donna leaned against the wall, watching the Doctor carefully. "You look older", she commented.

"Thanks", The Doctor grunted.

I snorted.

"You two still on your own?" She asked, looking at me.

"Yeah", the Doctor answered distractedly. I shrugged, not knowing a ton about how and who we usually traveled with. "Well, no. We had this friend. Martha, she was called". He shot me a look that warned me not to ask. Timelines. Right. "Martha Jones. She was brilliant. And I… destroyed half her life". The Doctor looked subtly guilty. Donna saw it too, I could tell by the way her face softened slightly. "But she's fine, she's good… She's gone". Somehow I doubted that this wasn't the first time one of his friends had 'gone' and a part of me wanted to know, but another part didn't.

"What about Rose?" Donna asked gently.

Yeah… see… another one.

"Still lost". The Doctor glanced at me, clearly not wanting to give too much away. I searched his face carefully. Although I had no idea who these people were, I could see that the Doctor cared about them a lot, and knew that I would too.

The Doctor turned his attention back to Donna. "I thought you were going to travel the world?"

Donna sighed wistfully. "Easier said than done. It was like I had that one day with you two, and I was gonna change. I was going to do so much. And then I woke up the next morning...Same old life", She looked at me sadly. "It's like you were never there".

I returned the look. I understood. My first encounter with alien life had not been a good one, and although I had wanted nothing to do with it at first, the next morning I was waiting for it again, begging it to come back and take me along too. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long, and I couldn't imagine waiting week or months or years like Donna had.

"And I tried… I did try", she continued, "I went to Egypt. I was going to go barefoot and everything. And then it's all bus trips and guidebooks and 'don't drink the water' and two weeks later you're back home. It's nothing like being with you. I must've been mad turning down that offer".

I looked at her curiously. Had we offered to bring her along? I could imagine that we did. Didn't seem like a bad idea, either. I already liked Donna and could tell that the Doctor did too. If nothing else, she could keep the Doctor company while I was away.

"What offer?" The Doctor asked, his head buried in the computer.

"To come with you". She looked at me again, trying to gauge my emotions on the matter. She still wanted to come. I grinned encouragingly.

The Doctor straightened back up, slightly taken aback. Not unpleasantly so… just surprised.

Donna grinned weakly. "Oh, yes please", she nearly begged, looking equally nervous and excited.

The Doctor still had that startled expression on his face. "Right", he said dazedly.

Any further comment on his behalf was interrupted by the computer coming to life, announcing 'inducer activated' in a loud, empty voice.

"What's it doing now?" Donna asked.

"She's started the programme", the Doctor growled stressfully. He ducked down and started rapidly adjusting wires. "So far they're just losing weight, but the Matron's gone up to emergency parthenogenesis".

"And that's when they convert…".

"Skeletons, organs, everything. A million people are going to die. I've got to cancel the signal". He reached into his jacket and pulled out one of the gold pill necklaces I'd seen around. He pulled it apart and started wiring it in. "This contains the primary signal. If I can switch it off, the fat goes back to being just fat".

"Inducer increasing", the computer announced again.

"No, no, no!" The Doctor shouted, pulling at his hair, "She's doubled it! I need… I haven't got time. It's too far. I can't override it. They're all going to die!"

"What do you need, Doctor?" I peered around him, trying to make head or tails of the machine. There had to be something…

"Is there anything I can do?" Donna asked, keeping her voice calm.

The Doctor was almost panting now. "Sorry, Donna, this is way beyond you. I've got to double the base pulse. I can't…"

"Doctor, what do you need to double it?" I asked again.

"Doctor, tell us, what do you need?" Donna joined.

"I need a second capsule to boost the override, but I've only got the one. I can't save them!"

Donna gave me an exasperated look and pulled out a second capsule from her pocket and dangled it in front of her. I laughed in astonishment. Yeah, Donna was great.

The Doctor turned, stared at her for a second, and broke into a large grin. He snatched it from her and began wiring it in as well. The machine flared and then died, completely shut down. The Doctor stepped back, laughing.

Then a loud, thrumming noise sounded overhead. The electric hum shook the air and rattled the entire building. We all looked up at the ceiling.

"Wait a minute", Donna muttered, "When you say 'nursery' you don't mean a creche in Notting Hill".

"Nursery ship", the Doctor answered thoughtfully..

The computer came back to life, announcing an incoming transmission. A voice in an alien language reached my ears. I could almost understand it… and it didn't sound good.

"Hadn't we better go and stop them?" Donna asked.

"From doing what?" I answered. "It's a nursery ship, not a war vessel".

"Hold on, hold on", the Doctor muttered urgently, holding up a finger. "Instructions from the Adiposian First Family. She's wired up the tower block to convert it into a levitation post…"

"So I wasn't too far off then", I muttered.

"Ooh!" The Doctor continued, his voice soft with fascination. "Oh...we're not the ones in trouble now...she is!" He took off running again and we followed.

He headed for the roof, where I saw a large space ship, shaped mostly like a saucer but with a section that dropped down into a spike in the middle. It was also rimmed with large antenna-like appendages that were tipped with lights. Beams of bright blue light streamed from it, hitting the ground. The baby Adipose were walking into it and being lifted into the air, up to the ship. There were hundreds of them, thousands. All being sucked up hundreds of feet into the air. We stared at the spectacle in wonder.

"So what are you going to do then?" Donna asked, "Blow them up?"

"Huh?" I was startled by the thought.

"They're just children. They can't help where they came from", the Doctor responded, still looking up.

"Oh, well that makes a change from last time", Donna commented.

I kept my eyes on the Adipose, but raised my eyebrows. Did we kill kids last time? Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Doctor glance at Donna.

"That Martha must've done you good", Donna finished.

The Doctor looked back up. "Yeah, she did. Yeah. Yeah. She did". I could hear the regret in his voice again.

A squeaking voice called down at us incoherently. My attention was drawn to a little bundle of fat that was waving down at us. We waved back.

"I'm waving at fat", Donna stated, partially amused.

I snorted. "Don't question it. You just get confused".

"Actually, as a diet plan, it sort of works", the Doctor added.

"The fat just walks away", I laughed.

"The fat just walks away", he confirmed, grinning. "There she is!" He shouted suddenly, running over to the edge where the Matron was also floating up in her own personal stream of light. "Matron Cofelia, listen to me!" He called out urgently.

"No, I don't think so Doctor", she called back smugly, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "And if I never see you again, it'll be too soon".

"Oh, why does no one ever listen", he groaned, "I'm trying to help! Just get across to the roof. Can you shift the levitation beam?" He was reaching out for her in vain.

"What, so that you can arrest me?"

"Matron, they're going to drop you!" I called out to her. "Just listen!"

"I saw the Adiposian instructions. They know it's a crime, breeding on Earth, so what's the one thing they want to get rid of? Their accomplice!" The Doctor cried, still reaching out.

"As in you", I added.

"I'm far more than that", the Matron sad, still smug. "I'm nanny… to all these children".

"Not anymore!" I cried, "You've done your part!"

"Exactly!" the Doctor continued, "Mum and Dad have got the kids now. They don't need the nanny anymore!"

A flicker of doubt crossed Matron Cofelia face, but before she could respond, the beam of light that was keeping her afloat switched off. It was like in cartoons, when the character hangs in the air for a hilariously extended amount of time before falling. The Matron actually had time to look up, down, and back at us before gravity took hold, but unlike in cartoons, there was no coming back unscathed.

Donna gasped and leaned into the Doctor. I turned my head and focused on a tree a few hundred yards down the street, wincing when I heard the sickening thud as she hit the ground. The ship, having completed its mission, began to lift away. If I looked carefully, I could just see the outlines of a bunch of little, white masses peering out from the windows.

We watched the ship disappear in a flash of white light before heading downstairs. When we got outside, I saw the Doctor take out the Matron's pen, stare at it for several seconds, and toss it into a nearby trash can.

I walked over to say something but was interrupted by the arrival Penny.

"Oi! You three!" She shouted, waddling over, still tied to a chair. She must've gotten captured again. "You're just mad! You hear me? Mad! And I'm going to report you for… madness!"

She waddled away with her chair. We stared after her.

Donna looked bemused. "Some people just can't take it", she muttered before brightening up. "And some people can". She grinned. "So then, TARDIS?" She grabbed both my and the Doctor's arms and dragged us into motion.

We led her to where we left it, parked in an alley a few streets away. She found this hilarious.

"That's my car!" She cried, pointing to the blue vehicle parked at the end of the very same alley. "That is like destiny".

I couldn't help but laugh. It _was_ one hell of a coincidence.

"And I've been ready for this. I packed ages ago, just in case". She opened the trunk of her car to reveal numerous boxes and bags. I was surprised that they even fit. "Cause I thought, 'hot weather'. 'Cold weather'. 'No weather'...".

"What do you wear for no weather?" I asked, impressed by her forethought.

"No idea!" She replied cheerfully. "And then i thought, 'they go everywhere. I've got to be prepared". She started piling bags into a bewildered Doctor's arms.

"You've got a… hatbox", the Doctor managed to comment uncertainly around the pile of things in his arms. I couldn't even see his face anymore.

"Planet of the hats, I'm ready!" She pulled out the last of her bags, a large pink suitcase, and slammed the trunk decisively. "I don't need injections, do I? You know like when you go to Cambodia, is there any of that?"

I looked over at the Doctor, curious as to the answer, and was taken off-guard by his blank expression. I had been having good fun with all this. Had I missed something?

Donna was already halfway in the TARDIS, looking back at us from the doorway. She had noticed his expression too. She deflated slightly, but carried on. "'Cause my friend Veena went to Bahrain and see…", She broke off nervously. "You're not saying much".

"No, it's just…", the Doctor started, apparently trying to choose his words carefully. "It's a funny old life, in the TARDIS".

"You don't want me", Donna said, her voice losing it's fire.

"I'm not saying that", he said gently.

What was he saying?

"But you asked me. Would you rather me not now?"

"No", he said, a little more firmly, "Actually, no. But…" he sat down the bags he was holding and took a few steps closer. "But the last time, with Martha, like I said, it…". He shoved his hands into his pockets. "It got complicated. And that was all my fault. I...I just want a mate".

I assumed that he meant as in the British terminology for 'friend', but he said it weirdly. I wrinkled my forehead skeptically. Donna seemed confused by it too. She cocked her head in an unsettled manner.

"You just want to mate!" She exclaimed in disgust.

"I just want ' _a'_ mate!" He tried to clarify.

I started laughing. Donna automatically understood too, but wasn't ready to let it go yet.

"You're not mating with me, sunshine!" She cowered a bit behind the TARDIS door.

"' _A'_ mate! I want ' _a'_ mate!" He insisted desperately.

Donna drew herself up dramatically and stepped back out of the TARDIS. "Well, just as well, because I'm not having any of that nonsense. I mean, you're just a long streak of nothing". She held up her hands to indicate how skinny the Doctor was. "You know, alien nothing".

"There we are, then", the Doctor said, looking slightly offended. "Okay".

"I can come?" Donna looked relieved.

"Yeah", the Doctor nodded. "You think so, Monet?"

"Oh, yeah", I laughed.

"Then of course you can, yeah", the Doctor finished. "I'd love it". He broke into a smile.

Donna was ecstatic. "That's just…" She opened her arms like she was going to hug him and he mirrored the action. But she broke off suddenly. "Car keys". She fumbled through her coat. "I've still got my mum's car keys. I won't be a minute". She ran off down the alleyway, leaving me and the Doctor with her numerous bags.

The Doctor rubbed his face before stooping to pick up her luggage. I walked over to help.

"So you're good with this, travelling with Donna?" He asked, grabbing the handles of a blue bags.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I asked while shouldering a yellow duffle bag.

"Oh, I don't know", he mumbled. "I assume you want to go home now?" He added quickly, clearly trying to change the subject. "I know that you don't stay for extended periods of time near the beginning. You've still got to meet up with other me's…".

"Is there a specific time table?" I asked, not really keen on leaving just yet.

"Well, no, not really… but sort of. We… as in you and younger me… we sort of get to know each other at the same time… more or less, at least. And that needs to stay the same… it shouldn't happen any other way".

I dropped the last bag into the stack of Donna's things and leaned against the railing. "M'kay. I have that presentation I need to give on Monday anyway".

The Doctor walked over to the console and leaned against it. "Right. History wasn't it? World War II? You should pay attention to that. Might come in handy".

I crossed my arms. "Spoilers, huh?"

"Maybe", he grinned cheekily.

That's when Donna let herself back into the TARDIS, smiling excitedly. She shut the door with an air of finality. "Off we go, then".

The Doctor started walking around the console. "Here it is, the TARDIS. It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside…".

Donna cut him off. "Oh, I know all that bit". She crossed her arms. "Although, frankly, you could turn the heating up".

The Doctor looked slightly taken aback but ignored the comment. "So… whole wide universe. Where do you want to go?"

Donna paced over to the console. "Oh, I know just the place".

The Doctor raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Two and a half miles that way". She turned her head in the direction.

The Doctor was a bit surprised, but complied.

Two and a half miles and a couple hundred feet up, Donna opened the doors and started waving. I peered over her shoulder and could just see the figure of a plump old man, waving back and jumping around excitedly. The Doctor came over to join us and waved as well.

The TARDIS spun away and Donna closed the doors.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"My granddad", she replied, almost crying despite her huge, genuine smile.

I smiled back and took her hand, giving it a squeeze.

The Doctor looked over from where he was messing with the controls.

"Monet, why don't you show Donna to her room? I'll send along the luggage".

I nodded. "Come on".

Like usual, I naturally knew the way. Donna followed eagerly, asking questions all the way.

"How big is this place? How am I supposed to find my way back?"

"You get used to it, I guess. Though I have no idea how big it is, but there is a gigantic kitchen and a humongous library. Oh, here we are".

I had found the door with Donna's name on it, inscribed in the same loopy gold font that mine was. I stepped aside and let her open it.

"Oh, wow!" She exclaimed. "All this, for me? How did it get set up so quickly?"

Her room was impressive, the most prominent colors being red and gold. Her apartment was set up a bit differently than mine, the sliding door that went to her bed was directly across the room, between it and the main door, everything else more or less lined the walls. The bathroom was just off to the left, right before a sitting area and a small kitchen.

I shrugged. "It's just the TARDIS. She creates rooms. Did you see your name on the door? She knew you were coming". I thought for a second and added, "You know, I would've passed this door on the way from my room… and it wasn't here this morning".

"Really? That is fantastic". Donna looked thoughtful. "She? The ship knew I was coming?"

"The TARDIS is alive and has a good awareness of time, being a time machine and all. She probably made it for you when we were out".

"Look, my stuff!"

Her luggage was sitting neatly outside her bedroom door.

"The Doctor sent it along. I guess he can send stuff remotely".

Donna walked over and tested the couch, bouncing up and down on it for a moment before settling. I went over and sat beside her.

"So what's it like? Traveling with the Doctor and all?" She asked seriously.

I shook my head. "Honestly… I don't really know all that well yet. I'm still pretty new to all this too".

"How long's it been since the last time we met?"

I smiled ruefully. "Dunno, I'm not there yet".

"What? How'd you mean?"

"I meet the Doctor out of order. I'm younger than I was the first time you met me".

"Seriously? Wow, that has got to be mental".

"You're telling me".


	10. Home and the People Who Live There

_Don't hate me if this chapter is boring/ kinda sucks. I was just trying to get some background in on Monet's life when she's not with the Doctor. Plus I wrote it when I was tired and didn't really want to write it again bc next chapter is going to be more entertaining... hopefully._

 **Chapter Ten: Home and the People Who Live There**

The Doctor and Donna dropped me off at my house about an hour after I left. My mom and dad wouldn't be home for a while, so there wasn't an issue there. Vader bounded up to me energetically and loped at my heels while I walked around the house to the porch in the front. I sat with my legs hanging over the edge, the toes of my shoes just dragging in the dirt. Vader flopped down at my side with a exasperated huff, clearly having expected me to do more than just sit and be boring. I scratched his ears and checked my phone. Eighteen missed messages from Penny. I hadn't had my phone on silent for that long…

The nineteenth message popped up while I was reading her first five.

 _Answer you sorry piece of crap._

Twenty.

 _Your asshole ex douche is on the move again._

Twenty one.

 _You might be interested in that shit._

I typed an answer before she could rattle off texts twenty two through ninety seven.

 _Taking a nap. Phone was on silent. WTF did he do now?_

I gave her a minute to type it, knowing that she would be frantically tapping it out on her phone and would be furious if I broke her stride.

It took her less than a minute.

 _Mostly just talking crap about you and spreading rumours and whtevr. But then he took it out on Rhodes._

I sighed. This was nothing new. Lawson Clarke. Your stereotypical overinflated wannabe jock. Back-up quarterback. Dumbass. Bully. Prick. We'd dated for a few months when I was fifteen-sixteen because I was going through a phase and hadn't known any better.

 _Like his weak ass can do anything._ I typed back. _Everyone knows that he's full of crap by now._

 _Yeah I know it doesn't have any effect on you. I'm worried about Rhodes_

Rhodes was our best guy-friend, sweet and wouldn't hurt a fly. If Lawson was the stereotype bully, Rhodes was the stereotype nerd. That's how we met him; in freshman year he had been even shrimpy-er than he was now (which is saying something) and was being pushed around by a weaselly hulk of a kid named Noles (last name, I don't think anyone ever knew his first name). That was the first and only time Penny and I had almost gotten into serious trouble at school. Technically we should've, but the administrator had thought it was hilarious; a five-foot-one girl and her five foot friend sending a six-foot-two guy to the nurse in tears. The telling of the story had gotten exaggerated over the years, but the most important factor was the outcome; Noles eventually got suspended for jerking off in his car while in the school parking lot. Penny and I got the never-ending loyalty of a skinny-ass nerd. All was right with the world.

So if Lawson was pushing around Rhodes, we had a problem… one that Penny and I would not tolerate.

 _What did he say to Rhodes?_ I asked.

 _Nothing worth repeating… but long story short, he's saying that he doesn't want to go to school on Monday_

I closed out my conversation with Penny and opened one with Rhodes.

 _You ok? Penny told me about Lawson._

He answered immediately.

 _Lol yeah… he was just being a jerk. I'll live._

 _Sure? Want me to do something?_

 _Depends._

 _On?_

 _What it is._

 _I got you fam._

I reopened the conversation with Penny.

 _Yeah he's shook. But I got it._

 _What you gonna do?_

 _:)_

I had had plenty of issues with Lawson in the past. As infuriating and hectic as those times had been, I had learned the most effective way to win. I was about to call upon the only force strong enough to leash Lawson up for good. The one thing that teenage boys feared more than all the angels in heaven and the demons of hell.

I was gonna call his mom.

Alexandra Clarke was the closest person I'd ever met to a modern day saint. She organized Church bake sales, ninety-five percent of the school's fundraisers, and was the most giving person I knew. But most importantly, she believed that I was an angel that could tell no lies.

Her number was on the top of my contacts list. It was the work of a moment to call her up, put on my sweetest voice, and tell her all about how her son was upsetting my friends and spreading rumours about me. She listened quietly until I had finished, told me in the kindest voice I had ever heard not to worry because she would handle it, and hung up.

I couldn't help but grin evilly to myself. She had hung up far too quickly. She was mad. Modern day saint or not, she was going to hang her son's ass from the flagpole in her front yard; right in between the American and Christian flags. Attention. Salute. Pledge.

After I had taken care of that mess I had to deal with the one inside. It was my turn to clean house. The three people living in my house are all tidy people, so there wasn't much to do; just sweep and mop and take out the trash. By the time I was done, my mom was home.

My mom dodged around the still-wet spots where my mop had been with practised ease, as quick and nimble as a dancer. She then dropped her bag and stack of papers on the kitchen counter before doing a similar dance back across the living room to the couch.

"How was your day?" She asked, loud enough so I could hear her from where I was still foraging in the kitchen. "Did you get your project done?"

"Yeah, it's done", I called back, my own voice echoing in the cabinet that I had my head buried into. "What's for dinner?"

"Your dad's picking up japanese from that place in town".

"Good". I shut the cabinet decisively and wandered into the living room, parking myself on the reclining chair. I hadn't eaten since I had been in the maintenance closet, and even then only

crackers and string cheese. That had been eight years ago. In London.

"Turn on the TV", my mom mumbled from her place on the couch, only one of her dark eyes open. It was tired, but sharp and clever; an eye that could spend hours picking out the tiniest detail in a piece of art, identifying and appraising. The same eye scowled at me now, clearly wondering why I hadn't already gotten up to do her bidding.

I stuck my tongue out at her and got up, catching a glimpse of the single scowling eye change into two amused ones. I snagged the remote from its spot underneath the tv and collapsed back in my chair, flipping through the channels passively. My mom and I had a debate between the science channel and the history channel, but it ended quickly with the realization that M*A*S*H was on. M*A*S*H was one of our most beloved shows. All three of us had seen every episode several hundred times over. There was something about the comical but serious nature of the army doctors in Korea that never lost its novelty.

We had gotten through an episode and a half by the time my dad got home, carrying two plastic bags that contained white styrofoam takeout boxes of rice, steak, and chicken. Both my dad and I loved the pink sauce that came with it. Shrimp sauce, I think. But either way, he always made sure to get extra, because we always drowned our rice in it. My dad handed me a box and winked as he placed a clear plastic container of sauce neatly on the top.

We ate in our usual silence that was only interrupted by an exasperated sigh from my mom. I looked up to see her glaring at my dad, who was staring straight back, grinning while he dumped two whole containers of pink liquid on his rice and chicken.

I chewed on a chopped up piece of steak thoughtfully, punctuating each word of my internal monologue with a bite. Amy and Rory were my real parents. It was like my entire life was a lie. Who even were they? What would my life have been like if I had grown up with them? With a sister? Who would I be? Would Melody be my best friend instead of Penny? Would I still watch M*A*S*H and MythBusters and Star Trek? Would I have the guts to call my ex's mom to protect my friend? Would I have been happier?

I was jerked out of my thoughts by an indignant huff from my mom. I looked up to see that my dad had dumped a large pile of cooked vegetables onto her plate because he didn't like them all soft and squishy. It took one look at my mom's mock anger and my dad's childish amusement for me to decide that if nothing else, the answer to the last question was a solid and absolute 'no'.


	11. Rio or Bust

_Lol... sorry... but here's another in between chapter... let me know if they're getting annoying, I like short chapters, if you can tell_

 **Chapter Eleven: Rio or Bust**

Monday rolled around uneventfully. I gave my presentation on World War II, which went without hitch if you exclude the fact that Penny was making faces at me from the back of the room the entire time. I was sure to return the gesture.

As expected, Lawson was quiet and subdued. The only time I noticed him speak was to go over to Rhodes, mumble something that I couldn't make out, and shuffle awkwardly back to his desk. I was half worried that he had said something rude, but one look at Rhodes' smug little grin told me that it had been some form of apology. I would have to call his mom later to thank her. Maybe make her some cookies or something. Or volunteer at something she was hosting soon? Either way, do something that would reaffirm my position on her good side.

Monday passed. Then Tuesday. Then Wednesday. I was getting restless. I wanted to travel somewhere again, go someplace that I had never been and meet new aliens. I knew that the Doctor hadn't specified a specific meeting schedule, but how long of a wait could I expect? On average?

Finally, Thursday came and I didn't have to wait any longer. I was in math, taking a quiz. Or staring at a quiz that I had finished ten minutes ago. High school was agonizing. School rules had really tightened up over the last few years. The rule that was currently irritating me the most was the one that wouldn't allow students out of class early, because at one point, if you had finished all of your work, you could go and hang out in the library, lunchroom, or stadium until your next class started, so long as you weren't in the hallways making noise. But now, there was nothing to do apart from stare either at the quiz or out the window.

Lucky for me, I had been staring out the window at that particular moment, and could see the TARDIS materialize. My math classroom was a corner room on the second (and top) floor of the building, giving me a lovely (not) view of the parking lot and the gymnasium. The TARDIS appeared between the gym and a tree just so I could partially make it out between the branches.

I stood up immediately and turned my paper in, but stopped by the teacher's desk just long enough to convince him that I had left my homework for the next class in my car. He gave me permission to go and get it, so long as I went straight there and came straight back. I agreed, shouldered my bag, and tried my best to not run out the door.

At one point, speed-walking had been a sport in the Olympics, and if it still was, I would've been in a lock for the gold. It's difficult to hurry and not be noticed by administrators, but somehow I managed it. I opened the outside door and forced myself to slow to a normal walk. When I was almost to the TARDIS, the door swung open to reveal the eleventh Doctor. He beamed at me from the doorway and sidestepped to let me in, giving a mock bow as I passed.

"Hello, Mo!" a voice called down to me in a scottish accent.

I looked up to see Amy leaning against the railing, her bright red hair contrasting with the blue of her baggy shirt. Through the rails I could see that she was also wearing a black miniskirt and some kind of sports shoe.

"Hi, Amy", I greeted.

The Doctor bounced around me while I crossed the floor to the stairs. He got to them first and hopped up the first few before leaning against the rail to look at me.

"So, where are we, eh?" He asked.

"Uh… Adipose", I answered before stepping around him and climbing the rest of the stairs.

"Ooh, so still early then", he said cheerfully as he followed me up and danced about the console. "But I take it you've met Amy?"

I smiled at the redhead and nodded. But before I could comment further, Rory emerged from one of the corridors, in jeans and a Space Invaders T-shirt.

"Oh, and have you met my fiance, Rory, yet too?" Amy asked, going over to link arms with him.

"Yeah, I've met both of you, but we didn't really get to talk much".

So, fiance. They weren't married yet. This was before all that stuff at Demon's Run. They didn't know yet. I leaned my elbows on the console and glanced over at the Doctor. He didn't know yet either. And I couldn't tell them, any of them. I didn't know if I was frustrated or relieved. I really wanted to talk to someone about it, but really didn't want to deal with the awkwardness that would come with that situation.

Amy was talking. "The Doctor was about to take us to Rio".

"Or try to, anyway, again", Rory added in exasperation. "We've been trying to get there for ages now. But first we ended up in a world with dragons and jousting, and then in Tibet. Who knows where we'll end up this time, but I'm betting it's not Rio".

"Oi! Don't blame me, it's the TARDIS. She's the one that decides where we go in the end".

"You're the pilot. You fly the TARDIS".

"You don't really fly a TARDIS. You negotiate with her and hope for the best".

I snorted and watched as the Doctor began pulling levers and pressing buttons in the sequence that I was beginning to recognize as the one that started dematerialization. The TARDIS grinded to life and I could almost feel us leave Virginia behind. The TARDIS hummed in my mind and I automatically knew that we were NOT going to Rio.


	12. The Glamour Chase: Part One

_**IMPORTANT!:**_ _This chapter was not based on my own ideas. I haven't done a disclaimer yet, mostly becasue A Good Man Goes to War and Partners in Crime were so obviously not mine that it didn't seem worth the time. This chapter and some to the chapters that are coming after this are based on_ _ **BBC novels**_ _... bc I wanted to do something different than just TV episodes that everybody has seen and done a fic on. This comes from the book_ _ **The Glamour Chase by Gary Russell.**_ _Obviously the book has a lot more braches and POVs to it, but I'm only including Monet's POV. I'm also actually rewriting, not copy and pasting the book bc the book is like 250 pages long and I have plot points I want to get to. Let me know if you guys actually like me doing this or if you think it would be better if I stuck to the TV episodes._ _ **Once again... base plot not mine... it's Gary Russell's**_

 **Chapter Twelve: The Glamour Chase: Part One**

"So… not Rio then", the Doctor said as he opened the TARDIS doors. "The TARDIS locked onto a distress beacon of some kind. Looks more like…". The remainder of his sentence was replaced by a startled yelp. I was a few steps behind him, so I got a clear view as he slipped on something just outside the door, fell, and tumbled out of sight.

I walked the rest of the way to the door and peered down to see what he had slipped on. It was some kind of animal droppings. I wrinkled my nose and stepped over it into the thick grass beyond. The TARDIS had landed right at the top edge of a very steep hill. I watched as the Doctor tumbled the last few feet of it to land in a kind of in-ground trough with a goopy splash. It looked like one of the things that farmers used to wash sheep in before shearing them. I didn't know whether to be concerned or amused, but amusement won when I saw his head pop out above the surface, spitting water, while a sheep ambled up to him, clearly wondering what this strange man was doing in its bath.

Amy and Rory slipped past me, carefully stepping over the droppings, which I now assumed were that of a sheep, as they had seen me do. Amy laughed and wandered around the TARDIS while Rory stood with me for a moment, looking down at the Doctor with a bemused expression.

"So not Rio then?" He sighed.

"Not Rio".

Rory shook his head and wandered to the other side of the TARDIS, evidently looking for Amy. I returned my attention to the Doctor, who was now trying to have a conversation with the sheep.

The sheep bleated.

"What?" the Doctor asked.

Baaa.

"I see. Rory?"

Baaaa.

"Nope. No, definitely not Rory. Although I can see some similarities. For instance, you're standing there, gazing at me, assuming that I know what's going on. And making strange noises that no one understands. But I'm pretty sure, despite all that, you're not Rory".

The real Rory's voice came from around the TARDIS. "Ummmm, Doctor?"

The Doctor didn't answer, just continued his conversation with the sheep, not even bothering to get out of the disgusting water. "Ahhh, see, now _that's_ Rory. But you see what I was getting at, yes?"

Baaa.

"Doctor?" Rory called again, this time more insistent.

"Quiet, Rory, I'm talking to a sheep".

Baaa.

"Alright, strictly speaking, I'm talking _at_ a sheep, but I'm pretty sure I'm getting through. Blimey, Mr. Sheep, you smell bad. No… wait… nope, you're all right, _I_ smell bad. Wow. That _is_ bad. Sorry".

"Doctor…", Rory said again. I heard the urgency in his voice and turned from the Doctor and his new friend to circle around the TARDIS.

Once on the other side, I could see why he was concerned. Rory was sitting on the ground with his hands on his head. In front of him stood two men, one of which had a shotgun that was conveniently pointed at Rory's head.

I put on my best smile and leaned against the TARDIS. "Hello, gentlemen. What can I do for you today?"

They didn't answer because they were more interested in the dialogue that the Doctor had finally decided to open with Rory. "What?"

"You've, uh… well, you're in… uh…", Rory started from his place on the ground.

"I'm in a sheep dip, Rory, aren't I?"

"Yes", I answered instead, still leaned against the TARDIS with my arms crossed.

"Why am I in a sheep dip, Rory? No, wait, it doesn't matter, I don't care. Because I reckon that whatever answer you give, I'm not gonna like it much. And neither of us will come out of any subsequent discussions on the subject particularly well, am I right?"

I let out an exasperated groan.

"No, Doctor", Rory answered.

"Where's Monet? How come she's not in the sheep dip? She always knows how to deal with me in situations like this. Me. Sheep dip. Bad smells". The sheep bleated again. "And you, frankly, Mr. Sheep, aren't helping matters much".

"Up here, Doctor", I called, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice. "And if you're done with your bath, I'd appreciate it if you'd hurry up".

"Well, at least you're not the one in the sheep dip", he called back. I could hear water sloshing followed by a muddy squelch and assumed that it was him getting out of it. "What if I had gotten stuck? Then you'd have to come and help me and get all covered in sheep dip too".

I rolled my eyes and smiled at the men pleasantly again. The younger of the pair, who happened to be rather attractive, smiled back shyly.

"Doctor", Rory tried again, "there are men up here. And I don't think they're too chuffed. One of them has got a shotgun. Aimed at me".

"Try not to get shot, then, Rory. Can you manage that? Amy won't thank me if you get shot".

"I won't thank you either", Rory huffed.

"You'll be dead".

"There is that", Rory responded. "And thanks for that vote of confidence. You're a bundle of fun today".

"Overlooking the sheep-dip smell… which isn't so bad once you get used to it… I can smell a good cut-grass smell. Earth. England". The Doctor voice sounded closer now. He was climbing the hill... hopefully. "Gotta be the east coast, low down. We're in Norfolk. Suffolk at a push. Don't get sheep on many other planets. You are pretty much unique". He sounded farther away again, talking to the sheep.

I sighed and tipped my head back so that I was looking straight up at the cloudless blue sky.

"It's pretty nice down here", the Doctor continued. "You should take the time to look at the sky more often. Smell the grass, taste the English air on the tip of your tongue. Marvelous".

"You're forgetting something, Doctor", called Rory, sounding even more unsettled now than he had been earlier. "Shotgun. Me. Danger?"

"If he was going to shoot you, Rory, he'd've done it by now. So it's an empty threat. A threat, yes, but pretty empty". His voice echoed from even farther away now. "English farmers are the ask-questions-first-shoot-later types. I think that's the right way around anyway".

One look at the farmer and the other man, who was dressed like an early twentieth-century gentleman, and I could tell that the Doctor was right. They had no intentions of shooting either of us. I, on the other hand, was more than fed up with with the Doctor, especially since Rory was becoming increasingly stressed about having a gun pointed at his head. Not that I blamed him.

I shifted my weight forward and walked toward the two men, still smiling amicably. I nodded toward the farmer and his gun. "Excuse me, sir, might I borrow that for a moment?"

The farmer looked taken aback. He was about to say no, but I shrugged. "You aren't going to shoot us. I'm not going to shoot you. But our friend down the hill is pissing me off", I said. The farmer gave me the shotgun. I grinned. "Nice make. My grandpa has one like this".

I rested the butt-end firmly in the fleshly part of my shoulder before pointing it up but slightly towards the empty field off to the right. And fired.

It did the trick. I heard the Doctor give a shout of alarm, followed by his hurried footsteps. His face emerged from around the corner of the TARDIS, pale and worried. He saw me with the gun and his expression turned into a scowl.

"That was mean", he growled, stalking the rest of the way out, "making me think one of you got shot".

I broke down the shotgun with practiced ease and passed it back to the farmer. "You were taking too long. I got bored".

Now it was the Doctor's turn to sigh. He turned his attention to the two men, who now seemed less concerned and more amused. "Hello", the Doctor said, becoming cheery again. "I'm the Doctor. And you've met Monet". I tipped my head in greeting. "And that over there is Rory. Sorry, are we trespassing? I didn't see the signs and Rory, well, I'm not sure he can read".

"Oi!" Rory said indignantly, coming to stand by my side. "I can hear you, you know".

The Doctor offered his hand to the well-dressed man. "Lovely field you've got here. Like I said, I'm the Doctor. That's Rory Williams and our American companion, Monet English. Somewhere around here should be another chum, Amy Pond. Tall, redhead, Scots… but we try not to hold that against her too much. Very nice. She and Rory are getting married in about seventy-five years, give or take".

The man didn't take the Doctor's hand for obvious reasons. I could smell him from where I stood. I wrinkled my nose and noticed that he was dripping a bit too.

"I see. Name's Porter, Nathaniel Porter. I own this land".

"Yes!" The Doctor said excitedly, looking pleased. "Smokin'".

Rory sighed melodramatically and I shook my head in disapproval.

The Doctor shrugged. "Fine. Okay. Another word crossed off the list" He gave Porter a wink and waved his hand about to gesture to the land we were standing on. "Nice land to own, I must say, and I'm terribly sorry we trespassed. Allow me to assure you it was quite unintentional". The Doctor leaned in a bit. "I blame Rory. He always leads us up the wrong path".

"What's that there?" The farmer asked, pointing to the TARDIS. "Setting up a campsite, were you?"

The Doctor found his psychic paper and showed it to the landowner. Porter stared at it and nodded. "Benson", he said to the farmer, "take a look at this, young man, and see if you agree with the credentials".

The farmer peered at it and raised an eyebrow. "Scotland Yard? Is it about the dig? The complaints?"

Even though I knew perfectly well that he had no idea what Benson was talking about, the Doctor nodded. "We were trying to set up a small outpost, but I think we ended up in the wrong field. Wanted it to be hush-hush. Rory's on loan from Gloucester University's geological department and Monet's an exchange from Washington D.C".

"Sorry about the sheep dip", Rory apologized, "The Doctor must have slipped as we set our police box up".

"I get clumsy when I'm in the countryside. Bit of a city boy, really", the Doctor confirmed.

"Clumsy in the city, too", I added.

The Doctor chose to ignore my comment. "So, anyway, we need to find WPC Pond".

"WPC?" Benson asked, looking skeptical.

"Yeah", Rory agreed. "Always wanted to join the force, ever since she was a little girl. Looks great in the uniform".

The Doctor shot him a warning look. "The Stanley look isn't her favorite, actually, so she's in civilian clothing whilst we're here. Trying to blend in". He noticed the video game shirt that Rory was wearing and shook his head wearily. "An art not everyone has mastered, it seems".

Nathaniel Porter nodded. "What was she wearing? Benson can get his fellow farmhands to keep an eye out. Won't have wandered far, but the villagers are a bit… unsure of strangers".

"Absolutely. Rory?" The Doctor asked.

Rory closed his eyes thoughtfully. "Ummm… Blue baggy top, short black skirt. Trainers".

"Oh, that's so very 1930's", the Doctor grumbled to himself before addressing Benson. "All the rage in London. Probably won't take off here for, oh… lots of years".

I wasn't exactly to par with 1930's style, but was glad that I didn't look too outlandishly out of date.

The Doctor sniffed loudly. "What's that smell?"

"It's you", Rory answered. "Sheep dip, remember?"

"You need a bath, Doctor", Porter stated. "Follow me back to the Manse, soon get you sorted".

"I'll find your Miss Pond", Benson said as we turned to leave. "And when I do, I'll point her in your direction".

The Doctor turned back to shake Benson's hand. I winced, but Benson didn't seem to mind.

We walked a short distance behind Porter so we could talk without him hearing.

"So, one shakes hands and one doesn't", the Doctor murmured thoughtfully. "That's two odd things about our host".

"To be fair, I wouldn't want to shake your hand either", I said, feeling slightly nauseated by the smell. "A farmer would be okay with it. A landowner might not".

"Maybe".

"What's the other 'odd thing'?" Rory asked.

The Doctor waved his psychic paper around in front of him. "He's the landowner, probably runs the entire village, lives in a Manse, may be the Vicar as well. Bet he's a magistrate, they always were in these days. So why'd he show our documentation to the hired help?"

"The farmer?" Rory asked. "I don't know. Maybe Porter can't read".

"I doubt that's the problem".

Rory thought some more. "Because the psychic paper didn't work on him. He needed the farmer to see what it said. To him, it was just blank".

"You're learning, Rory, I'm proud of you".

Rory smiled, then frowned. "Don't patronize me".

The Doctor started rambling about the different ways a person could not see something on the psychic paper. But I wasn't convinced.

"Or", I added when he stopped for breath. "Maybe he wanted a second opinion from someone he knew. Finding Scotland Yard officials in your field… and in your sheep dip… isn't the most legit thing in the world".

"Maybe", the Doctor muttered, "But I'm not convinced. The TARDIS brought us here for a reason. We have to question everything".

"Don't over complicate it though".

The Doctor looked like he was about to retort, but he forgot about whatever he was going to say and excitedly grabbed onto both mine and Rory's arms. He pointed eagerly to a few red buildings to the far left of the small town. The buildings connected to form a ring around a massive pile of dirt.

"Looks like _Time Team_ ", Rory decided.

"An archeological dig in the playing field of what I'm guessing is the local school. How exciting is that?"

"Oh. Very, Doctor", Rory said sarcastically. "You said we came here because of a distress beacon the TARDIS located".

Porter suddenly turned and came back to us. I couldn't help but wonder if it was because that he'd heard 'distress beacon'.

"One imagines that's why you are here, Doctor. To sort out the problems created by the dig?"

"Unpopular, Mr. Porter?"

'You could say that. Enola has had no end of trouble from some of the locals and a number of out-of-towners. That's why we sent for the police in the first place".

"Enola?"

"My wife". I heard a note of pride in his voice. "My second, and most beautiful, wife. And the most thrilling archeologist of the day".

"I can't wait to meet her", the Doctor commented.

"The Manse is this way". He pointed to the far right side of town, the opposite side from the dig. "Have a good scrub down, and you'll meet her when you join us for dinner tonight. I say, you got lodgings sorted?"

Rory shook his head. "Not yet".

"Marvellous. The four of you can stay with us then. Plenty of rooms at the Manse".

I saw movement in the corner of my eye. So I turned and saw Amy trotting up beside us, where she linked arms with Rory.

"Oh, thank you Mr. Porter", Amy said happily, "That saves everyone a lot of problems".

"Hello, Amy", the Doctor greeted.

"Where'd you get to?" I asked curiously. She had left the TARDIS right before Rory, hadn't she?

"You missed the Doctor trying to talk to a sheep", Rory commented, clearly relieved that she was back.

"Wow. Well, now I bet the sheep gave as good as he got".

"I think they were on the same level. Intellectually as well as physically", Rory stated.

"Oi", the Doctor protested, "You don't know me well enough to insult me, Rory Williams".

"You insult me all the time", Rory pointed out.

"That's true, you do". Amy sided with Rory. "And he's my hubbie-to-be, so I have to defer to him on this one or he may leave me at the altar".

"If you ever get to the altar", the Doctor laughed. "I may just abandon you here in 1936. Yeah, bet you didn't think of that when you were thinking up of new ways to insult the poor old Doctor".

I chuckled at that, so he turned to me.

"You too, Miss English. You and that bit with the shotgun. I'll leave you here, with Amy and Rory. You lot can tease and frighten the locals all you please". He booped my nose playfully, making me laugh.

Amy laughed and rested her head on the Doctor's shoulder. "Awww, is poor ickle Doctor getting picked on by the nasty humans?" She cooed in a baby voice.

"Yes, he is. I wonder why I always think this is my favorite planet. It's full of horrible people". He suddenly grinned. "But I suppose there are one or two who are better than the rest".

"Could be worse", Amy added. "Imagine if Mars was your favorite planet. No one there to travel with you".

A shadow passed over the Doctor's face, but before I could be sure of what it was, it was gone and he was grinning again. What happened on Mars?

"Or Mercury", I added. "Then you'd roast up".

We kept walking for a bit but then the Doctor stopped suddenly, cocking his head as if listening to something.

"What is it?" I asked softly.

"I can't hear anything", Rory murmured.

"Exactly. We're in an English village. On a Sunday morning. Four strangers have walked into town while a big archeological dig is going on down the road. And no one is making a sound. Quietest village in the world, I reckon".

"Perhaps they're all watching telly in the pub?" Rory suggested.

"1936".

"Listening to the radio?"

"1936", Amy put in. "Not much on".

"BBC's quite new", the Doctor explained. "And out here, the radio market's not quite so big".

"So why?"

The Doctor smiled. "Let's find out".

"We could just ask Nathaniel Porter", Rory suggested.

"You think he'd tell us the truth?", I muttered and glanced over my shoulder and saw that the man in question was approaching.

"The Manse is this way", he said, a huge grin on his face. He led us down onto solid road and into town.

As soon as we crossed into town. Something felt _off._ It was one of those feelings you got but couldn't explain, and the only words you could use to describe it was _just wrong._

I glanced over at the Doctor and caught his eye. He felt it too.


	13. The Glamour Chase: Part Two

_So sorry it's taken me so long to update, I'd been dealing with finals and projects and whatever so I hadn't had the time or energy to actually sit and write. It didn't help that I had gotten bored with writing The Glamour Chase. But here I am, finishing this chapter. It isn't really interesting until the end, but bear with me, if you can. Unfortunately, there's still one more part of the Glamour chase after this, but I'll try to keep it short._

 _Anyway, after the Glamour Chase, I'm torn between having Monet meet 9 or go on a mini adventure with River. Do you lot have a preference? or just want whatever will make me update faster?_

 **Chapter Thirteen: The Glamour Chase Part Two**

When we made it to the Manse, we were greeted by an older man with an accent that I was unfamiliar with. I think his name was Chidders… though it could have just as easily have been Chedders, or Chinners. I don't know. I'm from America, and consequently familiar with the varying american accents with an emphasis on southern. At any rate, he was very determined to make us very sure that he was NOT a butler. He was a MANSERVANT.

The place had the potential to be impressive, but didn't really accumulate to much more than one of the larger houses you'd find in a run-down suburban area. One-storied except for one end, the building branched out in several forked hallways.

I only half listened as Porter explained the extensive history of the place, as it wasn't very interesting. Something about 1824 and 'eccentric attitudes'. Once inside, I noticed the grand staircase leading up to the multi-story section of the house; Porter's personal rooms. Beyond the staircase was a door that led to a kitchen, a semi-circular hallway that branched off into three extremely dark corridors that I couldn't see the end of. Porter led us to the second corridor.

At the mouth of the corridor was a set of photographs of several different people.

"One is Mrs. Porter, I imagine?" The Doctor inquired, clapping his hands together thoughtfully.

"And my first wife." Porter acknowledged. "The staff like to keep them there, watching over them almost, and Enola doesn't mind them. She's not threatened by my past."

I raised my eyebrows. A strange thing to say to people you had just met. Who was he trying to convince, exactly? "Well, both are very pretty." I added.

"Wow, there's quite an age difference," Amy piped up, leaning forward to tap the picture of Enola, Porter's current wife. "You old dog," she continued with a wink.

I managed to suppress a wince. Thankfully, Porter chose to ignore the comment.

Porter gestured to the remaining hallways. "The third passage leads to the dining and drawing rooms… both overlooking the magnificent walled garden. And then the fourth leads to a set of private rooms for my… permanent guest." He said the last two words in an almost condescending manner.

"And who would that be?" I inquired politely.

"His name is Oliver Marks. He was a… a friend of my first wife."

I made to reply but was interrupted by Amy. "Ooh… so where is the first Mrs. Porter? Under the patio?"

This time I did wince… especially when I already had a feeling what the answer would be.

"1936." The Doctor hissed. He then turned and smiled at Porter. "Ignore Miss Pond," he said cheerfully, "I'm sorry, we didn't mean to be rude about the first Mrs. Porter."

"These things happen, Doctor," Porter replied easily. He turned to Amy. "And no, Miss Pond, not under the patio. But with no churchyard, she is not buried locally."

I sighed while Amy glanced guiltily at Rory, who shrugged and attempted a comforting smile. Amy got over her embarrassment rather quickly and started to move further down the hallway.

"So, who're this lot, then? Family portraits?" She asked, staring with her arms crossed at a man with squinted eyes and a rather impressive handlebar mustache.

Porter shrugged. "To be honest, I have no idea. They were in the Manse when I obtained it and I have never enquired. I have just kept them up as decoration." He bowed slightly. "If you will excuse me, I must freshen up for before lunch. My man will show you your rooms, then Mrs. Stern will provide us with platters of cold meats and salads, if that is satisfactory?"

"More than," the Doctor agreed, "Thank you."

The manservant, Cheggers… Chidders… whatever… led us down the second corridor until he stopped in the middle of the hallway and pointed to either side.

"Your rooms," he said solemnly before turning and opening four separate doors.

I ducked into one of them on the left while Rory tried to put in that he and Amy could share a room, only for Amy to remind him of the time period. I snorted. Poor Rory. Always competing for Amy's attention. From what I could tell, he was much less enthusiastic about the whole travelling thing; leading me to assume that he was only here because Amy was. I shook my head and looked around the room.

It was a plain room. A small bed say under a tiny window that was framed by yellowing sheer curtains. A wooden dresser sat against the wall, a dusty mirror on top. It was like visiting one of those bedrooms you'd find in museums; musty and stale and forgotten; old and frail, like it would break if you dared to lay a finger on anything. I wrinkled my nose. Hopefully we wouldn't be here long enough for me to have a reason to use the bed.

I turned back toward the door to see Amy, who had the room beside me, cross the hallway to poke her head into the room on the other side.

"Aww, are my boys fighting over me?" I heard her laugh as I made my way over to join them. "And I think he means Rio in Brazil," she added to whatever they had been discussing. "Old house, but thin walls and doors. Who knew?"

I poked my head around the door frame to see Amy sit down on the creaky bed beside Rory while the Doctor hovered in the doorway that connected his and Rory's room.

"Oh, what's this?" I asked cheerfully. "Party in Rory's room?"

"Apparently," Rory grumbled.

The Doctor smiled. "Bite to eat, then exploring. Information gathering time."

"You notice how _mein host_ responded to my mention of the age difference between the old and new Mrs. Porters?" Amy asked.

"Thankfully, he ignored you," Rory voiced my thoughts.

"Ah, but don't you see?" Amy tried to cover for herself. "Anyone else would have reacted in some way. Said something. It was like… it was like it had never occurred to him."

"Or," the Doctor huffed, "he's too much of a gentleman to react to rude yung Scots ladies. Particularly after making a joke about her being dead before knowing she was actually dead!"

Amy shrugged, unconvinced.

"Anyway," Rory interjected, "Why are we here?"

"Not gonna let that one go, are you?" The Doctor sighed. "I don't know, Rory. Which is weird for you, I'm sure, because you're used to me having all of the answers. But I don't. Not this time." He wrung his hands. "And I don't like me not knowing any more than you like me not knowing. Not knowing is not good."

"Hence the post-lunch investigating." Amy added. Then she smirked. "I can meet up with Tom, see what I can find out."

Rory scowled.

"Good, you do that." The Doctor agreed, ignoring Rory's discomfort. "Rory, I want you to go to the school. Bound to have a library, find out stuff."

"Stuff? What sort of stuff?"

"Stuff stuff. Stuff about stuff. The sort of stuff that tells you stuff. Libraries are good at stuff."

"Okay, stuff finding outing." Rory paused, licked his lips, acted like he was going to speak but then changed his mind.

"Rory?" Amy prompted.

"If I may," the Doctor interrupted Rory's stammering attempt at a comment or question. "I mean, your room, your rules, your girlfriend. But what I think Rory wants to know, Amy is, uhhh… who the hell is Tom?"

Rory nodded.

"Benson. The farmhand." I answered on Amy's behalf from where I still stood by the door.

"Oh. That Tom." The Doctor smiled, looking at Rory. "Big, muscular, square-jawed Tom. Nice tan from working in the fields all summer Tom. Big, strapping-"

The Doctor cut off and scowled when he noticed I was nodding along in thoughtful agreement. Tom was a good looking man.

I didn't miss the flicker of satisfaction that crossed Rory's face when he saw the Doctor's reaction. But it was gone quickly. He turned to Amy and frowned. "Why are you going on a date with Tom? Where's he taking you? When will you be back?"

"Not overprotective dad at all." Amy chimed. "He lives in the village. Will know things. And is quite charming. And we have to get information. You get the library books, I get farmer Tom. Handsome farmer Tom."

"Don't forget that tan." The Doctor laughed.

"Or ass", I smirked. I ignored the Doctor's sudden frown and laughed with Amy.

A polite cough came from behind me and I stepped out of the way of the manservant.

"Luncheon is served," he announced. "The master will join you shortly but requests that you start without him."

"Deja vu!" Amy laughed.

"It's cliche day in Shalford Heights," Rory agreed.

The Doctor snorted and slapped Rory on the back before turning back to the manservant. "So lunch then yes? Lead on."

The manservant turned to lead the way. I was about to follow straight after him, but the Doctor leapt across the room to get to my side, practically knocking Amy aside so that he could offer me his arm, smiling coyly.

I took the proffered arm ceremoniously, suppressing a smug smile as we followed the manservant.

We only followed the manservant to the end of the branched hallway, at which point he gestured to the left; indicating that that was the direction we should take while he went in the opposite.

Thankfully the dining room wa extremely easy to find without the manservant's aid. It was a decently sized room that was well lit with natural light, courtesy of the the large french doors that overlooked a slightly unkempt garden with large willow tree in the center; one of the really old ones that had had the time to get big with long swishy branches, forming a thick leafy curtain around its trunk.

Rory immediately ambled over to the window and gazed out at the tree, his eyes misting over at whatever memories the sight stirred. Amy came up behind him and rested her hand on his arm.

"Yours made a better spaceship," I heard her murmur.

Before I could contemplate the meaning behind her statement the dining room door was pushed open by the manservant pushing another man in a wheelchair. The man in the wheelchair wasn't old, definitely less than forty, but his hair was entirely grey. Not the usual silvery grey you'd expect an elder's hair to be, but an ugly shade of dull ash. No luster or shine. Limp and lifeless. Speaking of lifeless, his eyes could be described with that term and its corresponding synonyms. Despite his rundown features, he seemed alert and interactive… complaining about being in the wheelchair.

"I can walk, you know." He insisted to both the manservant and us.

The Doctor untanged his arm from mine and stepped over to the man, extending his hand for him to shake. "Oliver Marks, I presume."

Oliver Marks took the Doctor's hand, but used it to pull himself up instead of shaking it. Rory was immediately by his side, supporting Oliver's weight to the table with the Doctor doing the same on the other side.

"Thank you," Oliver sighed, slightly annoyed, "But I could've coped."

The Doctor moved toward an unoccupied seat at the table. "Then Rory and I apologize for assuming you couldn't." He sat and pulled out the seat to his left for me.

Amy took the set beside Oliver and Rory on the other side of her, making the overall arrangement the Doctor and I on the side facing the door; Amy directly across from me and Oliver across from the Doctor.

"Hi, I'm Amy, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Marks," Amy said pleasantly after she had settled.

Oliver stared at her quizzically for a moment, his eyes briefly flickering down a bit lower than they should've, making Rory shift uncomfortably. Oliver noticed and mumbled a quick apology.

The Doctor started passing out food. "So, Mr. Marks, how come you know our host? I gather you live here? A whole wing to yourself," he said, passing the plate of ham around me and directly to Rory. I was slightly surprised, not because he skipped me, but because he'd known that I didn't like ham. Apparently he knew I liked turkey though; holding the plate level so I could stab a piece off before he passed it on. I didn't really know what to make about this information, how well he obviously knew me. But for the first time, I was aware of how closely we were seated.

'It's hardly a wing, Doctor," Oliver answered, "Two rooms and a bathroom. But it's comfortable and he's generous to let me stay here despite… well… everything."

Amy took the salad tongs from Rory and gave the to Oliver. "Everything?"

He used used the tongs to transfer a generous amount of the salad into his plate. "I'm a friend of Mrs. Porter's. But he lets me stay anyway."

"The archaeologist?" Rory asked.

"Oh no, not her. Although bless Enola, she is very sweet. No, the first Mrs. Porter."

"Ah, her again," The Doctor mumbled around a mouthful of salad. "Blimey this is good."

"Good cook, Mrs. Stern," Oliver agreed. "Worth her weight. Not that Nathaniel Porter really appreciates her. Hardly ever eats. Half the time, I wonder if he only keeps the staff on for my benefit."

"And what benefit is that?"

Oliver glanced at the Doctor. "I'm not well, for the most part. I have good days and bad days. Today, you're seeing me on one of my good days."

"That's very aware of you, Mr. Marks," The Doctor said softly.

"Call me Olly, please. It's my name. At least it was, until I started living it was 'Mr. Marks' this and 'sir that. Drives me bonkers. Or would, if I wasn't already there."

"You don't seem bonkers to us," Amy laughed.

Oliver returned her laugh. "As I say, a good day, so far. But rest assured, I'm not well." He turned his gaze back to the Doctor. " I smell things, you see."

"Really? Like what?"

"How old are you, Olly?" Rory interjected.

"Thirty-seven."

Rory nodded. "When did you start smelling things?"

Olly pointed ignored the question and continued eating.

The Doctor started to ask a follow-up question but Rory cut him off with a curt sake of his head. Thankfully, the Doctor understood and changed the subject, telling him that we were here to investigate the complaints associated with the dig.

"I don't hear complaints," Olly said, shrugging. "Mind you, I can't remember the last time I went into the village. Can't imagine why someone would complain though. Schools are on holiday, most of the village is away."

"Away?"

"Yes, apparently in the summertime, the villagers often go away. Been away a long time… I think. But at least there's less noise out there I… I notice noise, you see…"

The Doctor looked at Amy and Rory pointedly. "Unusual for a village to be empty itself, though."

"It may have to do with the dig," Olly said with a shrug. "Knowing Nathaniel Porter, he probably paid for them all to clear out. Just the farmers and a few shops left, I think."

The Doctor picked up a piece of ham with his fingers, studying it for a moment before giving it a sniff and popping it into his mouth. ""Wonder how Mrs. Stern gets all gets her fresh produce if the villagers are all away."

"Cold store, in the basement. Keeps it fresh for months." Olly offered.

"In 1936? I don't think so.' The Doctor took his screwdriver out and started scanning around while we all watched him quizzically. Well, all except for Olly, who had stopped eating and was staring blankly at a bowl of salad. His whole body tense.

"Doctor." I said softly, trying to get his attention without making Olly even more upset. "You should stop."

"What?" The Doctor asked, turning to give me a confused look, screwdriver still whirring, pointed straight up at the ceiling.

"Turn. It. Off." I hissed, flicking my head toward Olly.

The Doctor suddenly realized what I was trying to tell him and turned the sonic off. "Oliver? He asked softly, moving around the table slowly.

No response.

"What's up with him?" Amy asked, only to be hushed by Rory before he got up to move to Oliver's side.

"Oliver, you said that you could smell things, what did you mean?" Rory asked softly. When he got no response, he asked, "Are you with me Oliver?"

"I can smell them." Olly choked after a moment, with great difficulty.

"Who's 'them'?"

Olly fidgeted. "I can hear them, too. Through the vibrations. I can hear screaming. Smell gas. And fire. So much fire…"

'He can smell burning, Doctor." Amy hissed. "Is this place on fire?"

"Please, Amy," Rory hissed back. "He can't smell burning, he can smell fire. It's different."

The Doctor nodded in agreement.

Amy grumbled unhappily at being corrected and went quiet for the time being. I turned my attention back to Olly, who was shaking and sweating now. He looked at Rory like he had just realized he was there.

"They're coming back, you know." Olly said in a tone that was both matter of fact and slightly panicky. "Coming for me!"

"Why would they be coming for you?" I asked urgently. But before I could get any kind of response, Porter burst in, followed by the manservant and an old man with a limp.

"Will he be alright?" The Doctor asked, cutting off Rory's objections.

"We'll take care of Mr. Marks." The manservant said, shoving the wheelchair towards us insistently, nearly hitting the Doctor in the legs as he stepped out of the way. The limping man helped Olly up and into the chair. Despite the distress he was in, Olly didn't do anything to resist as he was placed in the chair and wheeled out of the room by the manservant.

Porter nodded. "My staff will look after him, he'll be fine after a little sleep."

"You drug him?" Rory asked sadly.

"Usually. It's why he has a wheelchair… they keep him tired and exhausted, so the chair is a safer option than walking."

"What's wrong with him?" Amy asked.

"My friend is… unwell. It was why the first Mrs. Porter had him brought here. Their families were old friends. After my wife… disappeared, I still felt I had a duty to care for him. Forgive my manners, but I wish to check that he is comfortable." Porter inclined his head slightly and followed after the wheelchair.

"Welcome to the Addams Family and the Munsters all rolled into one." Amy sighed.

The Doctor ignored her comment and rounded on Rory. "Rory, what do you think?"

Rory seemed surprised to be consulted. "Sorry?"

"You're the nurse, you're our expert. I need to know you're thoughts."

"God," Rory started, looking thoughtful, "If this is the 1930s, they'll be using psychotropics and sedatives on him because they haven't a clue what they're dealing with. He's suffering badly from PTSD." He finished with a nod and shuffled his feet.

"Come again?" Amy asked.

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," The Doctor clarified. "He's mid-thirties, would have been early twenties in the war, so he could have shellshock." He glanced over at me. "Back then PTSD hadn't been diagnosed, so they called it shellshock. Their treatment of it and its sufferers wasn't a particularly proud moment in humanity's history."

"People with PTSD often exhibit the signs we saw then…. Heightened sensory perception… they can smell or hear things associated with the trauma, usually things that other people can't. So when he has a moment, everything is ramped up really high. The tiniest things can set him off."

"Like my screwdriver. Either the light or the noise…"

"But when you activated it, it flipped a switch in him too," Rory finished.

"Is that what made him prematurely grey?" Amy queried.

"Diffuse alopecia is rare", Rory answered. "And frankly a bit of a myth in the sense that shock doesn't really turn your hair grey."

"I don't think it was the war," the Doctor interrupted, "Although that might account for the nerves. No, he said 'they' were coming. I wonder who 'they' are though. If Olly's PTSD enables him to sense someone or something, we need to know what it is."

"And he CAN sense them. I can't explain how exactly, but it's very real and dangerous to people like Oliver… They don't have a clue what they're dealing with, or how fragile Oliver is… I ought to go and see him… check up on him."

The Doctor shook his head. "No, no. I can entertain Olly for a while. Amy, go and see your new special friend…ah ah ah…" He held up a finger to silence the protests forming on Rory's lips. "Shut up Rory… find out a bit about village life and how it's changed over the last few years."

"How do we know it has? Olly just said it was quiet… but he doesn't get out much." Amy pointed out.

The Doctor smiled. "Yes, but the first Mrs. Porter is our clue here. I bet everything was fine until she vanished, fell into a deep hole, took a trip in a Gemini Spaceship…"

"But earlier…" I spoke up at last, "Earlier when Amy mentioned her being under the porch, or whatever… he said that she wasn't buried locally. Confirmed that he knew she was dead. But everyone else seems to think she went missing…" I shook my head unhappily. "Doesn't exactly fill you with hope, does it?"

The Doctor grinned and draped an arm around my shoulders. "Don't miss a trick, eh? Precisely." He turned back to Rory. "And you, my walking medical encyclopaedia … need to head to the library and research everything you can about the history of this village. Because if the new Mrs. Porter is going to dig up something in the schoolyard, I'd like a clue as to what it might be"

Porter suddenly came striding back in. "I trust you enjoyed your lunch," he stated expectantly, coming to stand in front of the Doctor.

"Oh yes," the Doctor said cheerfully, rubbing my shoulder absently. "It was the best cold meat salad I've ever had in 1936. Compliments to Mrs. S and her kitchen. So simple, yet so brilliant," he gestured at Rory with his free hand. "Much like Rory here."

Porter waved his hand around to indicate everything. "My home is your home, Doctor. All four of you must come and go as you see fit. I would hate you to ever think you are imposing, because you are not. Old John here will be your personal aide during your stay." The old man with the limp hobbled forward at the sound of his name but scowled at us, clearly unhappy at the arrangement.

The Doctor extended his hand to the old man. "Hello, dear, we've not been properly introduced. I'm the Doctor," He squeezed my shoulder, "This is the lovely Monet English, that's Amy Pond, that's Rory Williams. And you've been here a very long time, haven't you? Splendid, I like a man with a history and a firm handshake…" The Doctor was still rambling as he released me and led Old John down the corridor and into the hallway, leaving Amy, Rory, and I in the dining room.

"So… library?" Rory suggested.

"Sexy farmhand," Amy corrected. I definitely get the better deal." She grinned at me. "So what about you? Sexy farmer or books?"

I laughed. "As hot as he was, I think I'll leave him to you. Don't want to overwhelm the poor man with two gorgeous chicks from the future. Besides, I'm better at books anyway… could find my way around a library with my eyes closed."

We all walked down the corridor together until we reached the front door, after which we seperated, Amy to the fields, Rory and I to the schoolhouse.

"Where was the school again?" Rory asked as we set off.

"Uh… the brick building, over there." I pointed to the smallish building in question, right at the edge of town.

"Oh, yeah, right near the dig, I remember."

We walked for a bit in silence, the gravel crunching beneath our feet. I glanced at Rory out of the corner of my eye. He wasn't much older than me, no more than 22 or 23; with dusty brown hair, a sizable nose, and light eyes. Unlike most complicated revelations, which got easier to accept the more you thought about it, this one was the complete opposite. Rory was my biological father, and I was walking beside him when we were nearly the same age, before he had even married my biological mom. So yeah, the more I thought about it, the more confused and unsettled I became.

"So…," I started, uncertain. "You're a nurse?"

"Uh, yeah… part time at a hospital in Leadworth. It's a good job. Not exactly traveling about, saving aliens and planets and stuff. I like it… it suits me, but on the same note… I can't… uh…"

"What?"

"Compete."

"Compete? With who?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"The Doctor?"

He nodded.

"Over Amy?"

"It's that obvious, is it?"

"Well, it's obvious you're not… comfortable with her being close to him… or Tom." I smiled and punched his arm playfully, making him sway off the path slightly. "But if you ask me, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Rory snorted dryly. "Can't see what you mean. Cause for a while, you know… we were happy, Amy and me… getting married, about to settle down… but then he came back. On the night before our wedding, no less. And took her travelling for a bit without me. And after that, it was different. SHE was different. Sort of… acting like she wanted me around because she was supposed to but… uhh… seems like she only has eyes for him. And I know it's not just all in my head either. She kissed him, right before they came to pick me up…"

I blinked at this information, not entirely sure how I felt about it. Amy had kissed the Doctor my… fiance? Usually, it wouldn't have bothered me in the slightest if the person that had been crushing on me had kissed someone else…in this case my… mom?… and even though I wasn't sure how I felt about the Doctor, I did feel a bit possessive. I shoved down my confusion sternly. A problem for another day. Focus on your real parents… not... whatever the Doctor was to me.

"And the Doctor told me!" Rory continued. "Popped out of the cake on my stag night to tell me that my fiance kissed him. In front of everyone! I mean, seriously…"

"Well, he is an alien." I offered.

"Yeah, but still…" Rory paused suddenly, turning to look at me slightly as if he'd just realized what he was saying. "Sorry… uh… don't know why I'm telling you all this."

"Maybe because I'm a person that you can talk about it to that isn't the Doctor or Amy that won't think you're insane with all the time travel and aliens and stuff." I shrugged. "And maybe because I'm listening."

Rory shrugged and sighed. "Yeah, maybe."

"Look, Rory…" I started, choosing my next words carefully, "For some people, having your life planned out for you, knowing what's going to happen, knowing what you're life is going to be like, what to expect, is comforting. But for other people… it's confining, like a dead end. Move out, get a job, or go to college, maybe get married and have a couple of kids… And it's not that they don't want that life, it's just… it just feels like there should be more." I quickened my pace slightly and turned around so that I was walking backwards and facing him. "Rory, Amy loves you and wants to marry you. But now especially, when she's young and still facing the rest of her life, a big, life changing decision is terrifying. Give her some time… let her settle a bit and figure out who she is.. She'll come around."

Rory sighed. "You think? But I don't want to be a…you said 'trap'."

"No, no that's not what I meant." I slowed so I was walking beside him again. "Like… right now… well not RIGHT now, but, back home.. My home, I'm looking at colleges, trying to pick a major and a career and whatever. And, people say that I have plenty of time to try things and figure it all out… but it really doesn't feel like that. It feels ike the decision will be a final one that will shape my entire future and decide what I can and can't do for the rest of my life. But here I am," I held up my hands to indicate our surroundings. "In the 1930s, trying to figure out if there's something fishy going on with an archaeological dig. So the college thing isn't a problem now, its not looming. Plenty of time to figure it out. And college and a major isn't a bad thing, I want it. But it's… new and scary."

"Wait a minute… you're in high school. How old are you?"

"Eighteen. Nearly nineteen"

"Seriously? Only eighteen?" He gave me an incredulous look.

"Oh, don't go all 'you're just a kid' on me. You're only few years older than I am."

"No, that's not what I was thinking. It's just that… you're very observant for your age."

"I read a lot." I said as I reached the library door. "I mean really a lot. That's why I'm helping with the research. Books, books, and more books." I opened the door and went inside. "It's speed reading time. You coming?" Rory stopped staring at me in bewilderment and hopped through the door after me.

I found the room with all of the books. It wasn't a large library… about that you'd expect in a 21st century elementary school. So 1930s library for the entire village, it was just as you'd expect.

I had plucked a book from the shelf and started to leaf through it when a phone started to ring. Rory developed a confused expression on his face and patted his pockets before pulling out his cellphone.

"Uh… hello?" He answered it uncertainly. Pause. "Doctor?" He looked at me. "It's the Doctor." I shrugged. "Uh, Doctor, how am I getting service in 1936? That's impossible" Pause. Rory confused expression turned to one of indignant irritation. "But Doctor…". Another pause. "Well, sort of, we just got here… and I still don't like Amy being left alone with Tom… Oh… okay…" Rory looked at me "Village called Little Cadthorpe… Where's that?... I told you it wasn't from the war...oh, and now you're patronizing me… You always patronize me… yeah she's here… we'll be fine… yeah we'll look it up. You know, you should start paying me for stating the obvious… well why can't we go there then?... Yes, very funny…"

He hung up and put the phone away before joining me at the books. He clapped his hands in a business-like fashion and made for a book of newspapers. "Right... so Little Cadthorpe. And how do I get calls from 1936?"

"Well, the Doctor did a thing to my phone that lets me call people from where and whenever. But I have no clue how it works."

We were both skimming through the multiple books of newspapers when someone coughed politely behind us. I turned to see a rather round lady carrying a mug of something or another.

"Hello," I said pleasantly, nudging Rory to get his attention.

Rory turned with a "How can I help you?"

The fact that he turned a bit too quickly, coupled with that he he was still holding a rather hefty book proved to be most unfortunate. He accidentally hit the lady squarely in her large stomach, causing her to boh drop the mug and step back in shock.

"Oh my God," Rory gasped. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, young man, accidents happen," the woman wheezed, holding a hand to her stomach.

"Your poor mug," Rory said lamely, obviously feeling guilty. I silenced any oncoming apologetic blundering with a single look.

I squatted and began collecting the pieces of the broken mug while the lady composed herself.

"Thank you, young lady," She huffed once she had recovered. "There's a bin under your table." I disposed of the remains and she extended a tea-stained hand. "You two must be with the dig. Nancy Thirman."

"Monet English." I said, returning her powerful handshake. "And this is Rory Williams. Sorry about the mess."

"Good to have you in the village," Nancy added after shaking Rory's hand. "Don't give a hoot what others might say."

"Others?" Rory inquired, still recovering from his blunder.

"Yes, ruddy naysayers from the WI. Ignore the blighters, that's what I say. Now, other than bring you fresh tea, as I seem to be wearing your last one, what can I get you?"

For some reason, Rory decided to frown. But before I could either inquire as to why or elbow him so he'd change hs expression Nancy continued.

"I'm the librarian, school teacher, former munitions worker and all around good egg, even if I do say so myself. And I do because, sure as heck, no one else will. Not these days." She tapped the book of newspapers that Rory was still holding. "Good tome, if you want the official, sanitised version of stuff. Bit rubish, of course, if you want the truth about the village."

"The truth?" Rory asked, once again, rather lamely.

"That's why you're here, isn't it? You need the real history." She tapped her temple with her index finger. "All in here. The truth. About the Porters."

Rory gaped at her is astonishment. And while I admit that it was a bit surprising to have Nancy know what we where looking for, I wasn't about to let it get in the way.

"Oh, yes please," I chimed energetically, putting on my best eager-to-learn-student voice. "It's always nice to have a teacher around. Pass on information exactly like it is."

Nancy's smile grew exponentially. "Oh, I know things, you see. It's my job to know things. Like what you're thinking right now. And I'll tell you this. I knew Mrs. Porter. We were at Roedean together. Grew up. Inseparable. Till she met Nathaniel Porter."

"You were at school with Enola Porter?" Rory asked, a confused look on his face.

I gave an exasperated sigh. "No, Rory."

"Oh, no not her." Nancy snorted. "Not that I had a problem with her. No I mean the real Mrs. Porter. Who vanished. I'll make some fresh tea." And she waddled off.

Rory and I returned to our books. I was secretly pleased that my intuition about Mrs. Porter seemed to be on the right track. There was something weird about Nathaniel Porter, and, hopefully if Nancy was feeling gossipy enough, we'd get closer to the bottom of whatever was going on.

"Though I am starting to wonder if she is a bit mad." Rory whispered to me from around his ook.

"Huh? Who, Nancy?"

"Yeah." He flipped through a few pages dramatically. "In all of these things we've gone through, have you seen anything about the first Mrs. Porter? There's nothing. I don't even think anyone has said her name once all day. Even this, here…" He showed me a page that detailed a wedding report between Nathaniel Porter and Enola Tucker. "It doesn't even suggest that he's been married before. And you know…"

"1936," I finished. "They'd've mentioned that he was a widower, or something about him marrying when his wife could still be alive. People were picky about that kind of thing."

"Yeah… oh, but here's something on Little Cadthorpe."

'Oh?" I leaned over to read over his shoulder.

The page detailed a fire that had spread through the town, wiping out what I assumed to be everyone. Yeah, everyone. No survivors.

"How could it be everyone?" I said in disbelief. Surely people would notice if, you know, other people were burning alive. It's not exactly quiet or instintaneous. And everyone asleep? I don't believe that."

"And then there's Oliver Marks." Rory looked up from the page with a pained expression. Clearly he was more affected by the death toll than I was. "He was there. And there were no mentions of him."

"People must be editing stuff out. And not just about Olly. About the original Mrs. Porter someone with influence must be shutting people up. But who could do that?"

Rory shrugged. "Dunno."

"Well, I have a theory. And it involves our generous host."

"Mr. Porter?"

"No, Morgan Freeman" I snapped impatiently. Then I shook my head apologetically. "Sorry. But yeah. Remember what I said about him being the only one that was sure that the first Mrs. Porter was dead and gone? And then there are no references to her anywhere. But I mean, that's not all that weird. Just suspicious…"

"You think he had something to do with it?"

"Well, yeah. Old husband, wants his old wife out of the way so he can marry someone much younger. It's not exactly a new thing. But then, he is taking care of Oliver Marks, who was part of an already suspicious catastrophe but was conveniently not mentioned. Well, we already know that he has enough influence to mess with the media. So it's not really a stretch to assume he could do it again."

"So Porter had something to do with Little Cadthorpe?"

I chewed on my bottom lip thoughtfully. "It's a stretch. But I think at least he had a reason to cover it up. And personally I don't believe all his crap about keeping Olly just because his old wife cared about him. If I'm right, and he did have something to do with her disappearance, why the hell would he keep her old friend? Guilt? Misdirection? Something else?"

Rory was staring at me with wide eyes, so I shook my head skeptically. I sat back down, having been unaware that I had stood and started pacing in my excitement. "Don't take me too seriously, I think too much. I love conspiracy theories, but I can get carried away."

"No, I don't think so. Usually you're right when you get worked up about something, so if you think there's a connection, there probably is."

"Aww, I'm flattered." I paused. "Rory, how long does it usually take to make a thing of tea?"

A glimmer of understanding crossed over Rory's face. "Not nearly as long as she's been gone. That was what, half an hour ago?"

"So I guess we aren't getting any tea."

"We can get a cuppa back at the Manse. I guess we should head back now. I reckon we've gotten all we are going to get." Rory returned his book to the shelf he had got it from.

I followed in suit, complaining, "But Nancy knew something, we should try and get her to talk."

"Well, we can't make her do anything if she doesn't want to." Rory glanced about. "Do you think we ought to turn out the lights? It's 1936, I'd wager electricity costs a fortune."

"I don't know. But we're the last ones here."

"Hello," Rory called out, "Miss Thirman? Should I, you know, the lights? Off I mean? As you do?"

We listened for a second but received no response.

"Did she leave?" I wondered aloud.

"What's this?" Rory asked, kneeling down to examine a ball of wool, which had seemingly just rolled out from underneath the table and hit his foot. It was an ugly shade of olive green. Rory reached down to pick it up, but hesitated.

"What's wrong?" I asked warily.

Rory stood back up. "Dunno… just… a funny feeling."

"Just leave it then." I said, sharing his discomfort.

Rory gave the ball of wool a gentle kick, causing it to roll away back under the table. "Let's go then."

We had crossed the room to the lights when something bumped against my feet. I looked down to see the same damn ball of wool, sitting there inconspicuously.

I frowned at it. "Rory, our friend's back."

"Huh?" He looked down at the wool. "Weird". He kicked the wool again, this time punting it across the room. We watched it bounce across a few tables until it was out of sight. "Hey look, that must be Nancy's office."

He was pointing to a door that read: N THIRMAN, CUSTODIAN.

Rory eased the door open and we peered inside. The lights were on, so we could clearly see the weird, hammock-y thing that was hanging across the room, consisting completely of the same ugly wool.

"The hell's that?" I whispered.

"Not the foggiest. No wonder there are so many balls of wool laying around. Come on, let's go."

Rory turned to leave and I made to follow him but was distracted by movement.

"Wait!" I hissed.

He turned and we both watched as the hammock, or should I say, pod, quivered and began to morph. Something started to poke out like a woolen stump, protruding from the main mass. It reabsorbed into itself and vanished. Then the end of the pod moved… I had decided that it was, indeed, a pod...and a face appeared. And when I say appeared, I mean that it sort of knitted itself into the pod. It didn't even look like a real face… its likeness much more similar to one you'd expect to find on that of a wool doll. But despite that it was very clearly the face of Nancy Thirman, and she looked very, very angry. For a second I thought that she was going to emerge from the pod and… I don't know… tell us off or attack or do whatever wool doll creatures did to the people that had intruded on its personal space. But the face only reabsorbed into the pod, quivered once more, and went still.

I stood there for a moment, trying to decide if I should run or find a stick to poke it with. I had almost decided on the stick when Rory made the decision for me. He grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door. Then we sprinted all the way back to the Manse.

 _Please Comment. Comments encourage me to write faster._


	14. The Glamour Chase: Part Three

_****So FINALLY here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long, but I was bored with****_ _ **The Glamour Chase**_ _ ** **and went on to work on some other stuff. I actually was working on this story, but far away future chapters that were a thousand times more interesting. Note that I left huge chunks of the actually book out bc I was just writing from Monet's POV. And then I basically butchered the end bc this specific chapter doesn't have any key plot point in it. So I****_ _ ** **definitely****_ _ ** **recommend reading the real Glamour chase. I got it online at archive .org where they have books and stuff for free. It doesn't have every Dr Who book but there are a few if you dig for them****_

 **Chapter Fourteen: The Glamour Chase: Part Three**

I could see the Doctor long before Rory and I arrived back at the Manse, the long gravel driveway providing a lengthy field of vision. The Doctor was standing in front of Olly, who was in his wheelchair, and a woman that I didn't recognize. The Doctor seemed to be trying to talk to the woman, unsuccessfully. The woman moved around the wheelchair, bringing Rory and I into the Doctor's line of sight.

The Doctor looked at us questioningly as we skidded to a stop in front of him, gasping for breath. I leaned over and rested my hands on my knees as I sucked in air. Man, I was in worse shape than I thought.

Rory recovered faster than I did and gave the new woman an awkward nod of greeting before turning to the Doctor.

"Weird thing," he gasped. "Really, really weird."

The Doctor's only response was to grab Rory by the shoulders and shift him out of his line of sight. Our arrival had evidently placed us in the way. I felt a flash of annoyance and spun around to see what the Doctor thought was more important than our news and discovered that the woman he had previously been trying to talk to had vanished entirely.

The Doctor spun around in a quick circle, trying to see where she had gone. "I need to follow that woman," he announced before hurrying off, only pausing to rest a reassuring hand on Olly's shoulder while instructing us to take care of him.

"But what about…" Rory started to call after him, but upon realizing it was no use, trailed off, "What about Nancy Thirman?"

I shook my head hopelessly, not sure who was stranger, the wool woman, or the person that was supposed to help with it. I was about to run after him when a strong hand tightened around mine, causing me to turn my attention to Olly.

He was shaking, sweating, and had gone extremely pale. I knelt beside him slowly, taking his other hand in mine on the way down.

"Olly?" I asked softly. "Are you okay? Who was that woman?"

I heard Rory follow suit beside me, sneakers squeaking against the long grass.

"It's alright, Mr. Marks," he said, sounding very much like the nurse. "Everything's going to be fine. If it's the drugs that are making you feel woozy, that'll be why Nathaniel Porter needs to keep you in the chair."

"No, it isn't," Olly spat venomously, clutching the plaid blanket that was laying across his lap desperately. "They're coming, I can feel it. Everywhere."

"You need to try and tell us about it. As much as you can bear to."

Olly shook his head frantically. "Can't. Can't talk about it. I'm very sorry."

"What for?" I asked gently, bringing one of his hands up to my face. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. It's not your fault."

I wasn't sure why, but suddenly I felt very cold. The air was warm and the sun was shining. But it suddenly wasn't reaching me. Chills spread from my spine through my limbs and I felt slightly nauseous from the sheer sense of dread. You know when you watch a horror movie late at night, and after you think you see something moving in your house? That freezing chill of fear and horror that makes your hair stand on end? Well, that was it. Except I had no idea what was causing it. Something was just WRONG. Rory tensed up beside me. He felt it too.

"They're coming back, and this time they'll get me," Oliver continued, voice dripping with dread.

"Why'd you say that?"

"Because she's here. Again. She's back."

"Who? The lady that the Doctor went after?" I prodded. "Who is she?"

Olly's shaking hands traced the pattern on his blanket. "My fiancee."

"Your fiancee? What's wrong with that?" And then it dawned on me. "Oh. She can't be here. Can she?"

Olly shook his head.

"She was there, wasn't she, in Little Cadthorpe?"

He just kept staring at the blanket.

"Olly, I know that it's really hard. But you need to tell us. Tell us about what happened that day."

"No," he insisted. "Not here."

"Then where?" Rory asked.

Olly pointed to the willow tree across the yard. Without further questioning, Rory stood and began pushing the wheelchair towards the tree, then around it so that it was between us and the Manse, hiding us from view. It made me wonder what about the Manse made him feel so uncomfortable. If his senses were accurate, was whatever it was in the building?

Once Olly felt a tad bit safer, Rory knelt down and took one of the man's hands. Keeping on his nursing voice, he asked, "The Doctor, me, Monet, and Amy . We want to help you. If it helps, we saw something weird at the library."

Olly shook his head. "We don't all need to know everything. Some of it needs to be locked away and stay there."

"Maybe," I said gently. "But we know that something horrible happened and that the people that did it are more than likely to do it again."

"And if you can't find a way to explain it, there is no way we can stop it," Rory finished. "I know that I can't understand what you've been going through, but maybe we can stop it from happening again."

The Doctor popped up by my side, making all three of us jump.

"And this house, and all of Shalford heights and everyone in it will become a dim memory… basted… quite literally... From history," he said, his voice low and serious. "Well, maybe that's an exaggeration… but then again, maybe it isn't."

Olly fumbled with the hem of his blanket. "When?"

"Whenever the ball of wool monsters attack," Rory mused.

To my surprise, Olly shook his head insistently.

"Not them. They're not the enemy," he hissed. He grabbed Rory's pant leg as he stood up to face the Doctor. "They're coming." His free hand grasped at a few of the willow branches which he held to his face to sniff. "I can smell them on everything. Don't let them come back. For God's sake, don't let them come back…"

The Doctor was chewing his lip thoughtfully. "If Oliver thinks they're coming back, with his heightened senses, I'd bet a big wodge of cash that he's right. In which case we need to know who he's talking about. Not wool creatures…" he clicked his fingers and rounded on Rory and I. "Rory, wool. You said wool creatures. He said not wool creatures. Tell me about the wool."

"Oh, right… well there was this lady, in the library… quite nice…"

"Oh, you dog, Rory! I thought you were a one woman man!" The Doctor interrupted childishly.

"She was 60, Doctor."

"Oh, sorry. Carry on."

"Anyway. She wasn't human. She was a big ball of wool, hanging in her office, like a hammock. Which is weird, but I'm telling you the truth. Monet saw it too."

"Yeah," I agreed, wondering why Rory felt that he needed me to qualify his claims. "Like a wool pod thing. But she looked human the first time we saw her… then Rory spilled tea on her… and then she went to get more and didn't come back. And she was a pod of wool with a face when we got back."

The Doctor started spinning in circles again, massaging his palms thoughtfully. "Now, ball of wool. Aliens. Wool. Ah, I've got it, the Weave. Great race, fantastic barbeques."

"Sounds dangerous," Rory remarked dryly.

"Evolution, Rory. Can't set themselves on fire, that'd send Darwin into a nervous breakdown if someone evolved that stupidly."

"Darwin would have a nervous breakdown at the 'wool' part," I added.

The Doctor snorted but continued. "Not fond of water, though, takes forever to de-soggify themselves…"

"Might be why she went out of human form," I mused. "Went in the back to hang herself out to dry."

"Good point. So why are the Weave on Earth in 1936, and where are they?"

"In the library, I told you, pretending to be a librarian," Rory sighed.

"Did she give you a number?" The Doctor asked.

"What? Like a phone number? I told you, I wasn't trying to pick her up!"

"No, they don't have names, they have numbers. They're all like one huge family… each homestead, each business, each starship crew, like one big family, looking out for each other because their lifecycle is sort of like a Fibonacci code. Each name, a successive number, added to the last. Literally. And each person exists to form a part of a greater whole. Remove one, and they fall apart. Quite literally over time, I imagine." He clapped his hands together. "Yes, I remember now...I met a girl…"

"And I thought I was being accused of chatting them up," Rory sniffed.

"Little girl, Rory. About seven or eight years old. This was about five or eight face back…"

Olly gave the Doctor a bewildered look. I had had seen two of his faces, so this wasn't exactly a new concept for me. Though eleven faces was a lot to take in, I could imagine it getting confusing after a while. At least I only end up meeting three of them, to mine and the Doctor's current knowledge anyway. How many regenerations did he have left after this one? I'd have to remember to ask…

The Doctor kept talking. "Took her for a spin around the cosmos, showed her her the universe, got her home in time for tea. Gave her a homing beacon. Told her if ever she was in trouble to beep me, and I'd come get her."

A thought struck me. "Is that why we're here, Doctor? Did the TARDIS home in on the signal?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"And you think that's who was in the library?" Rory asked the Timelord.

"Doubt it, she'd have said something to you. Did she say anything to you, about me?"

"No, she just kept going on about the first Mrs. Porter. Like she was trying to tell me something. And Monet's right, she was a bit odd because I threw tea all over her."

"Got her soggy. Nice one, Rory. What did I tell you about the Weave?"

"Nothing until two minutes ago."

"Oh. Yes, okay. Not your fault you got her-slash-him-slash-it wet."

"Wait, back up," Rory put in. "Her-slash-him-slash-it?"

"The Weave aren't like your species. Humans- male, female… that's your basic range. The Weave are effectively asexual. They take on the characteristics depending on their mood, what looks good aesthetically, or what the family group needs. When they take on another person's form, like your librarian, they copy the original but that doesn't mean that your wolly librarian was a female Weave originally." He smacked his palm against his forehead. "Of course. Nathaniel Porter. He must be one of them."

I was about to argue his final statement, but Olly did it for me. "That wasn't who I saw."

"No," the Doctor sighed. "Life wouldn't be that simple, would it? To echo Rory earlier, tell us everything."

Olly went pale. "I never have. I… I can't. I try to lock it all away, Doctor. I picture a little box in my head, with a lock and everything and I try to put all of the memories in there. But it's no use. In my head. In my dreams. Over and over again. I think I'm going mad."

"Hey," I said softly as I knelt back down in front of him, taking both of his hands in mine earnestly. "You're not crazy. You've been through hell and paid the price, but that doesn't mean you're crazy. And I know that I can't understand what you're going through, but I also know that you don't have to go through it alone. What happened that day, to Little Cadthorpe, to HER, isn't just your burden to bear. Let us take some of the weight, and we can make sure what happened to your fiancee doesn't happen to anyone else."

Olly held my gaze for a few moments before looking away. He released one of my hands in favor of a willow branch, which he broke off and began stripping of its leaves. "They wore red," he began in a quavering voice. "Everytime I see anyone in red, I flinch. And their faces…" He looked back up. "They weren't human. I knew that immediately. No human could do what they did to toe people. To my… my Daisy." He fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a tattered picture of a girl, the same girl that had been in the garden earlier. He held it our for me to see. "She didn't come back to see me, did she? Earlier?" He Olly asked, turning his attention to the Doctor.

The Doctor shook his head. "No, Oliver, it wasn't her. I'm not sure what it was, since I wasn't able to find her in the house."

"Maybe it changed form," I suggested, keeping my voice to a low murmur.

The Doctor frowned. "Yeah, and therefore it doesn't fit. Daisy died in Little Cadthorpe in…"

"1928," Rory offered.

"The Weave need a living, breathing person to copy. It's why they are basically an okay race. Even in their rare periods of wartime they never kill their prisoners because, although their abilities make them perfect spies, they need to keep the originals alive to to get a regular boost of the body pattern. And memories."

"Daisy didn't recognise me," Olly muttered under his breath.

"So not a Weave copy."

The Doctor shrugged. "Oliver, when she appeared you said things. Trigger words. Gas. Petroleum."

"The things that killed Daisy, that's what they breathed. Gas. Or petrol." Olly gasped like he as the one breathing it. "I can still smell it."

Rory tried comforting Olly by massaging his shoulders while the Doctor stared straight up, lost in thought.

"If it wasn't the Weave, the it must've been the Tahnn," the Doctor muttered after a few moments of recollection.

"The who?"

"Old foes of the Weave. Neighboring planet. Nothing like the Weave. Dislike for the unlike. You think differently from me and BANG, you have a war. The Tahnn can't change shape though. They're just soldiers that look like prunes."

"Thanos." I piped up.

The Doctor grinned fondly. "Thanos."

Rory cleared his throat and we turned back to him and Olly. Olly was shaking and had taken on a whole new unhealthy shade of white.

"Ah," the Doctor acknowledged while Rory calmed the stricken man. "That struck a chord. Never been close enough to a Tahnn to smell his particular strand of halitosis. But maybe we can assume that what the prunefaces were what Oliver saw in…" He pointed at Rory expectantly.

"1928."

"But why would they just turn up eight years ago and then vanish?" I asked. "Just kill everyone except one person and then scram? If they were looking for the Weave, why aren't they still looking for them?"

"Exactly. Kill everyone and leave one man as a by-product of attack. So what if it was deliberate?"

"You think he's a Tahnn?"

"No! But he can sniff them out and is convinced they're on their way back." He paused thoughtfully. "Rory, imagine you're an aircraft pilot. You know that Heathrow is basically in the south of England but not sure where exactly."

"I'd be a pretty terrible pilot."

"Play along please," the Doctor whined."So what are you looking for? What tells you where to land?"

"Uh… radio, air traffic controller…"

"Imagine you had none of those."

"Well don't they put lights on the runway… oh."

The Doctor smiled. "Got there in the end. Someone's using Oliver maks as a beacon. Eight years ago, they got the general area right but couldn't find this place. So, find one local human with a war damaged mind already, someone susceptible to their form of shock tactics and send him out into the world. Eventually, if you're patient enough, someone sees that beacon and brings him to what you are looking for."

"And once they found this burial mound here and thought it was the Weave ship, they brought Oliver here to at as a homing beacon to the rest of the Tahn," Rory concluded.

"Except no one here is a Tahnn, or our sniffer dog there would have spotted them."

"The first Mrs. Porter? She brought him to Shalford Heights, but now she's dead or whatever. Perhaps she was the disguised Tahnn."

"No, that can't be right," I interrupted suddenly, causing both men to turn. "You said Olly would notice if they were nearby. He has. At lunch, we thought it was the screwdriver that set him off… but then he started talking bout the gas burning. Sonic screwdrivers don't run on gas." I wrinkled my nose thoughtfully. "Does it?"

The booped my nose lightly with an index finger. "No, it doesn't run on gas. But you've got a point, Oliver has been having his moments for ages, and assuming that if the Tahnn were hanging out in a ship, that ship would be in orbit. Can't smell bad breath from orbit. Well, I suppose you could, but that would be one hell of a nose. Especially a human nose. So he must be relatively close by, but at any rate, we need to get access to the Weave ship,"

"Which is buried inside the mound under the school the Enola Porter is going to open any day now," Rory sighed wearily.

"That lived in the house that Jack built," the Doctor added in a sing-songish voice. "Spot on, Rory." He turned his attention back to Olly. "I need to meet Enola Porter, how do I do that?"

According to Olly, meeting the new Mrs. Porter was a fairly simple task; all we had to do was go to the dig and ask.

We found her in the school playground, drenched in sweat and pouring tea. She definitely looked like an archaeologist. Dressed in plain, practical clothes that were covered in dirt and grime, and being in the 1930's, the slightly-longer-than-knee-length pants made her even more uncommon. Her thick black boots looked remarkably similar to a pair that I had at home, though I only wore them when I was in the mood to wear my leather jacket, which wasn't often.

"Blimey," the Doctor murmured so that only Rory and I could hear. "Enola Porter's a man."

"What?" I hissed skeptically. Loose fitting clothing or not, she very clearly had boobs.

"Really?" Rory shared my confusion, his double take indicating that he had noticed the distinctly womanly characteristics.

"Of course not. I just meant in a Lady Gaga meets George Kirrin kind of way," the Doctor sighed.

"Who?"

"Lady Gaga?"

"No, I know Lady Gaga," Rory explained. "Well, not personally… but I know who she is. But not who… hang on… Lady Gaga's not a man!"

"Well, obviously. But when she first started out, they all said she was.." He then launched into a spiel about Lady Gaga's entourage getting paid off by a magazine, though it sounded rather fishy to me. He suddenly stopped thoughtfully. "Hang on, do I mean Lady Gaga or the other one?"

"Other one?"

"Won the X Factor. Or American Idol. Or was it South Korea's got Talent? Either way, Enola Porter is a bit butch."

"Right, because women have to be feminine, huh?" I commented sourly.

"Oh, no! I didn't say that," the Doctor winced and tried to back track. "There's nothing less womanly about being butch… I... uh… just forget I said anything." He nodded toward Enola, who had spotted us and was striding purposefully over. "Here she comes."

Enola offered me a tan and scarred hand, which I shook eagerly, admiring the strength in shake. She treated each of my male companions to the same greeting; Rory winced at her grip, the Doctor didn't.

"Enola Porter," she introduced herself with a rakish grin.

"Monet English," I countered, returning the smile. "And that's Rory and the Doctor. And I take it you know Olly?"

Enola answered by pressing a fond kiss to Olly's cheek. "You must think this is important, Oliver, to trek all the way down here."

"These people believe me, Enola!"

She looked at us in turn, a skeptical look on her face. "I see."

The Doctor grinned a large, goofy grin that spanned from one ear to the other.

Enola shook her head doubtfully. "Well, Doctor, a real pleasure to meet you."

"I gather that you're quite the archaeologist," the Doctor commented.

"You sound like my husband," she laughed dryly. "But without the actual patronizing tone. Maybe you hide it better."

If the Doctor noticed my smug/annoyed/questioning glance, he ignored it, choosing instead to say, "Not at all. I am genuinely interested in your work."

"Of course," Enola said decisively, clearly unconvinced. She nudged a sort of string bag with her foot. From the way it shifted, I could deduce that it was filled with notebooks. "It's an amazing find. I'll need a whole new book when this dig is completed."

"I'd quite like to read them," the Doctor commented politely. "I imagine you have had a most interesting life."

"Oh, I have. Oh, and I should introduce you to my team… be damned rude not to, yes?"

The proceeded to point out people to us. Some of them looked up from their tea or conversations, nodded or waved back, others gave no sign of us existing. One of the ones that ignored us was Marten, a constipated, skeletal old man that looked like he could be anywhere between 50 and 200. On either end of the spectrum, he looked like he hadn't eaten in four years. You could see the bones in his hands and face.

"Good afternoon, Marten!" Enola called loudly, like you'd call your mostly deaf grandpa. She turned back to us with a grin. "Oh, I know I shouldn't tease, but he's so wretched and miserable, and it's all an act. Got kicked out of the Bauhaus in '32. Probably too much of a Nazi for them. But he's a brilliant draughtsman. Draws everything we find around the world. Not as fast as a photographer, but much more accurate. He gets depth and scale and… oh look, see that chap there? With the monocle? Walpole Spune. He's our local expert on burial mounds HE was the one that found evidence that the dig was more than a burial ground."

Enola paused for breath and the Doctor took the opportunity to cut in. "If it's not JUST a burial ground, what is it?"

"Come see." Enola almost walked off, but she paused to rest a hand on Olly's shoulder. "Can't take your chair down with us, Mr. Marks, sorry. Will you be okay up here? Should I send somebody to pop you home?"

Olly's shoulders sagged a bit, but he managed a weak smile. "I'll wait up here for them until they're finished."

Enola nodded and waved someone over. It was Nancy Thirman.

"Nan here will look after you," Enola declared.

Nancy smiled sweetly. "Of course I will."

Rory and I glanced at the Doctor, equally alarmed, but the Timelord gave a tiny shake of his head, indicating that we should let it go.

Rory leaned closer to the Doctor to hiss, "She's…"

"Your living ball of wool?" The Doctor finished.

"How did you know?"

"Your faces. Frankly, you two should have made a pink, flashing neon sign that said 'Doctor, it's an alien'. But that would have been too subtle."

"Is it safe to leave Oliver with her?"

"He hasn't reacted to her Weave-ness, so I think so, yes. Means it's definitely the Tahnn he's wired up to spot." He glanced at me. "Which makes me think… never mind. Let's follow the lady."

We followed Enola to the (rugby?) track. It was mostly covered by a massive expanse of tented canvas. She yanked the enormous tent's flap and led us inside. Beyond the flap was a path leading to a hole in the ground, illuminated by flashlights that were suspended on string. If we looked down we could see that the path led to a giant cavern underneath the field.

Enola produced a giant flashlight and turned it on. I felt Rory jump beside me. I turned my head to see that Marten had crept up behind us, startling Rory. Marten was ready with a sketchpad and pencil, and I had to admit, he was a bit creepy.

The Doctor whistled admirably as we descended into the tunnel. "I'm impressed. But I'm also confused." He ignored Rory's look of disbelief. I bit back a laugh. "I mean, this is quite a dig. Quite literally. But you talked about a burial mound, this is more of a burial pit."

"We call them graves, Doctor," Rory added with an amused snort.

The Doctor scowled. "No, not a grave, Rory. Although I can see the analogy. But look ahead. That's definitely a mound. It's just way underground."

"I know," Enola murmured happily. "How unique is that?"

"I don't know about unique. But definitely unusual. Wouldn't you agree, Marten?" He called back to the grumpy man, who was still following.

Marten agreed with a curt nod and a heavily accented, "Ja." Suddenly the man was sketching frantically. I glanced around, but couldn't figure out was was suddenly so interesting that it needed to be sketched this instant.

The Doctor didn't seem to notice the change in the old man's behavior. He was studying the giant pod shaped mound that sat in a cavern under a rugby field.

"How did you know it was here?" The Doctor asked. "It's not like you have infrared scanners or seismographic radar yet."

Enola blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Exactly. So how did you know that a burial mound was buried under a rugger patch in 1936?"

Enola blinked in confusion but answered anyway. "Easy. Walpole Spune got his divining rod out and led us straight to it."

"Divining rod?" I echoed. "You started a gigantic, and undoubtedly expensive, official dig because of a monocle man with a stick?"

The Doctor grinned his huge grin again and draped an arm about my shoulders. "I SO want one of those, darling. A bit of old twig that leads you to things. So simple. Who needs a TARDIS or sonic screwdriver when a bit of tree branch will do?"

I TRIED to ignore the fact he'd just given me a pet name. People called other people that they didn't really know things like honey, hon, sugar, and sweetie all the time, didn't they? I called people sweetheart, no matter how well I knew them. Suddenly I felt uncomfortable and hot in my own skin. I shifted away from him and pretended not to see the glimmer of hurt that crossed his face.

"So are you saying that he really did divine his way to this place?" Rory saved us from the sudden awkwardness.

"Nah," the Doctor said dismissively, regaining his previous cheer. "But this lot of primitives do. No offence. And that means that someone has let them believe because they wanted to be found. Now, then, where's Marten got to?"

The creepy old man had vanished, presumably into thin air. Well, PRESUMABLY he'd gone back up the way we came. But I could've sworn to seeing him out of the corner of my eye a few seconds ago.

Rory paced over to where Marten had been standing, drawing my attention to the fact that he'd abandoned the notebook that he'd been drawing in.

"Doctor," Rory said urgently after studying the discarded object for a moment. "You need to see this."

We joined him at the sketchbook. It was a charcoal drawing of Rory, the Doctor, and I. It was really good too, and that's saying something coming from me. But this piece had its own abstract quirk: Marten had given us all balls of wool for heads.

"Curiouser and Curiouser," was all the Doctor could say. "Does Marten often draw things like this?"

Enola shook her head in bewilderment.

"Baaa," the Doctor bleated randomly. "I had wondered what my four legged chum was trying to tell me this morning."

"He was telling you that you stink," I sniffed. "You still do, by the way."

"Something else weird," Rory added.

The Doctor frowned. "Nope, not seeing your problem."

Rory sighed dramatically and started counting backwards from twenty.

At four, the Doctor snapped, "All right. I got it at 18. I was just trying to work out how he did it."

I peered at the drawing harder. "Our clothes aren't the same. But I have a flowery shirt like that." I pointed to the button up I was depicted wearing. "It's not my favorite."

"What she means," the Doctor explained to Enola. "Is that your friend Marten has drawn me in an old brown suit that I've… not fitted into in a while…" I looked at the Doctor's drawing and recognized the pinstripe. "And Rory in his work clothes. That's what a nurse wears where he comes from."

Enola was scoffing at the idea of a male nurse when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, in the corner of the room, near the mound. I turned toward it but only saw the weird shadows given off by the hanging flashlights.

I glanced back at the others, they were too engrossed in a conversation about nurses and time travel to notice, so I edged toward it nervously. The corner in question was where the dirt wall came closest to the mound, forming a tight niche that I could just squeeze into if I turned sideways and if, of course, I wanted to. Presently, I didn't want to. I could see the lights on the other side of the niche, but no light made it into it.

Something moved in the space between the lights. I tried to reason that it was just a trick of the dangling flashlights, but I reached for my phone to turn on its light and shone it down the crack. At first, it was just a space between two walls of dirt, but then I noticed that the dirt on the mound side looked strange, shifting around a bit.

Cursing under my breath, I pressed my back against the cavern wall and slid into the gap. I knew that I should call attention to it before diving in head first, especially after all the grief I gave people in horror movies and their stupid deaths. But I was too transfixed, especially when I noticed that the dirt in a certain spot wasn't dirt at all. It was wool, dark and moving like a living thing.

I had opened my mouth to call the others over to come see, but suddenly a woolen hand knit itself out of the mass, grabbed me by the collar, and drug me inside before I could make a sound.

Being pulled inside the wool mound was a strange sensation. It just sort of knit its way around me. I had played with my grandmother's wool basket before, had sunk my hands into the soft spools and twined my fingers between the threads. It was like that, except it was my whole body, not just my fingers.

I stumbled when I reached the other side, landing clumsily on my knees. I tried to stand, but a woolen root wrapped around my ankle, forcing me back into a sitting position.

"Hello, Mo," a familiar voice greeted.

I stopped struggling against the bond and looked up to see Amy in a similar situation.

"Hey, Amy," I returned sheepishly. "Where'd they get you?"

She scowled. "Sexy farmer was actually a giant woolen doll. He took me to see a tree made of wool and it… I don't know… just sort of… pulled me in." She looked around and I did the same.

We were in a small cavern made of, guess what, wool. The material was strange; it moved and flowed like a living thing and gave off a soft yellow-green glow. About twenty yards ahead I could see that the passage opened up into a much bigger cavern, but I couldn't see what was in it.

"Any idea where we are? Like, in relation to outside?" Amy asked.

"In the mound, under the rugby field at the dig. A good ways underground," I explained. "Me, the Doctor, and Rory were talking to the new Mrs. Porter, but I wandered off and got snatched."

Amy sniffed airily. "Nothing changes." I could tell that she was more frightened than she let on. Though I couldn't judge, I was terrified.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when she suddenly bellowed, "Oi, Tom Benson, where are you?"

"Holy hell," I gasped, trying to slow my heart rate back to a relatively normal level.

"Sorry," Amy muttered apologetically, but tensed at the sight of a shape moving down the passageway towards us. It sort of flowed, half attached to the wall and in no distinct shape. It broke apart from the wall and began forming into one of the wool people. "Don't come any closer." There was a hint of panic in her voice. "Unless you're here to rescue us, then come as close as you'd like."

After a few seconds of shaping itself, the mass of wool formed a woolen woman, yellow green like the rest of the place. The same ugly color of the wool balls in the library.

"Apologies for scaring you," the wool said after (she?) had finished. "The person you know as Tom Benson was supposed to bring you here voluntarily, not through the… tree?"

Amy nodded casually. "Yeah, tree. Nice tree. Must've taken ages to knit."

The woman laughed. "Seconds. The Weave can manipulate ourselves into any shape for short periods. But what you see now is our basic shape." She turned to me. "It would have been preferable if you had come willingly, but you had discovered our ship, so it was necessary. Apologies"

"Fair enough," I said meekly. "Ship?"

"The WSS Exalted. I am 128, the Commander. We crashed here centuries ago."

"And you haven't, conquered us, or enslaved us, or wiped us out yet? Cool," Amy said cheerfully.

128 shrugged. "We wish the people of this planet no harm. We are no threat. We are just trying to survive."

"Underground?"

"That's safest for now. We realised when we awoke that this era wasn't ready for us. They had not encountered enough other species to accept us for what we are."

"But you're telling us?"

"You are not from this planet. Like us."

Amy laughed. "We most certainly are."

The Weave frowned. "If you are from Earth, you are unique amongst these humans."

"Aye, that's us. Unique, amazing, and the bestest," Amy concluded with a shrug.

"We assumed that you two, the Doctor, and Rory Williams were travellers like us. You arrived in a capsule… 456195 saw you!"

"45… what?"

"You call him Tom Benson."

"This is 1936, right?"

"So I understand."

"I'm from 2010."

128 blinked slowly.

"2016," I piped up.

"The future?" 128 tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Me. And Rory," Amy elaborated. "2010. June, to be precise. Getting married, too. If we make it back." She extended her left hand for 128 to see. "Look, engagement ring. Cost a fortune, so of course Rory doesn't like me wearing it too often. He thinks I'll lose it. As if." She pointed at me. "Mo's got one too. The Doctor gave it to her, see?"

Both 128 and I looked at my left ring finger, and I was more shocked to see it there than an alien made of wool was. Not that 128 would have any reason to be surprised by it. It didn't mean anything to her. But it made my stomach flip and bile rise in my throat to see the pretty snowflake shaped jewels adorning THAT significant finger. I had been putting it on out of habit, wearing it on my right hand or middle finger at home and school to avoid questions as to its meaning. I had gotten compliments on it, and had repeated the same story so many times that I had started to believe I had just ordered it online, too. By now, hearing that statement, brought it all crashing down. Why had I moved it back to my ring finger? WHEN had I moved it? I hadn't done it consciously, that was for sure. So what the hell?

128 distracted me from my almost panic attack by asking, "Time travel? On this planet?"

"The Doctor. He actually IS an alien traveller," I offered, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.

Amy gave me a curious look, but decided to ignore my poorly disguised distress. "The Doctor, from a place called Mars. Sounds chocolatey to me, but apparently it's like waaay long way away. His ship brought us here."

128 grew herself what looked like a smartphone from her own body. She tapped at it for a minute, then shook her head, frowning. "The name 'Mars' means nothing to our computers, but the Weave don't know everything."

"How long have you been here?" I asked, having pulled myself back together somewhat.

"Six thousand years, give or take. But we awoke only fifteen years ago. Our systems malfunctioned after the crash. We were supposed to be woken hours within arrival, but he trigger mechanism was damaged. We awoke only when our secondary systems overrode it because of the presence of the Tahnn."

"The Tahnn?"

"Ugly prune aliens," I answered in 128's stead. "Slaughtered a town in 1928. That's where Olly came from… why he… is the way he is."

128 nodded. "They have been hunting our people for millennia. And it seems that the passage of the centuries has had no change. They must have finally worked out where we were and sent a raiding party to find us. They failed, but their presence was enough to wake us."

Amy was thoughtful for a moment, but then developed a frightened expression. "You're the leader of these Weave people, aren't you?"

128 nodded.

"And you've just told two complete strangers everything about your mission?"

"Very little, actually. Just enough for you to understand. And enough for us to get a basic grasp of how you think, who you are."

"Are you going to kill us?"

The Weave laughed at the prospect. "No, don't be silly. But we can't let you go, not yet. Anyway."

"When?"

"When we are safe from the Tahnn."

I wrinkled my brow. "And how long is that, exactly? You've been here for six thousand years. How long until safe is safe? More than a week or so?"

"We for wait millennia if need be. I will not risk exposure to the Tahnn. That's why we have infiltrated this settlement. I have placed my own people in there, party to supply the rest of us with food and drink, but also to keep the Exalted from prying eyes."

"You realise that there's a big dig trying to unearth you, right?"

She nodded. "We will deal with that when necessary."

I didn't like the smile that crossed her face. Evidently Amy didn't either.

"Deal with it how, exactly?" Amy asked warily.

"In whatever way I deem necessary to protect my people, Amy. But it's all right. It's why I had you brought here. You are going to help me."

"Really? Are you sure about that?"

128 thumbed her wool smartphone again. After a second, another bulge grew out of the wall, forming another Weave.

"Hello," the new Female-shaped mass of wool greeted pleasantly. "I'm ship's counsellor. 6011. Pleased to meet you Amy Pond. Monet English."

"Back atcha," Amy said quietly. "Don't get too close. I bite counsellors."

6011 didn't respond to the comment, but shivered and started to change shape. In the span of a few seconds, she had woven herself into an exact copy of Amelia Pond.

"Is my bum really that small? Wow, I look hot," Amy commented nervously. "When Rory and have our first post-wedding dance I'm going to look fantastic."

128 shrugged. "I'm glad you accept what we're doing, Amy. Thank you."

"Like I have a choice," Amy growled. "And just me? You're not going to copy her as well?" She pointed to me.

"We only need one form. Monet is only here because she stumbled upon us."

"So what happens to us while Counsellor Copycat here is running around trying to be me?"

"Same as the others. Sleep."

Another blob emerged from the wall. It introduced itself, but I wasn't paying attention. I had been distracted by a buzz. My phone. Text message. Luckily it had been on silent.

I subtly took it out and read the message while the Weave crew members were distracted by the new arrival. And who said texting in class wasn't a valuable skill?

The contact said 'Rory' though I didn't remember getting his number.

 _Are you safe?_

 _-Doctor_

Another brief glance up told me that Amy was being injected with something, presumably a sleeping thing.

I got out the first part of the message.

 _Weave mound safe can't talk sleep_

The medical Weave came over to me. A long green tendril shot out of its arm and into the branch around my ankle. I pressed my phone into my side, hiding it under my arm. I looked up at the Weave innocently before collapsing onto the ground, suddenly extremely dizzy.

Luckily, I had fallen over on my right side, my body between the phone and them, so it wasn't hard to finish the message without them seeing.

 _Fakeamy realwmesafe_

I don't know how I managed to even get that vague of a message out, but hopefully he'd understand. With the inky blackness swirling through my vision I just managed to press send before losing consciousness.

While asleep, I had the weirdest dreams. Not particularly good or bad. Just weird. Weird even for me and my active imagination.

It started at home, which was normal, except I was really short. Or maybe everything else was really big. Vader was there. Standing (or at least I thought I was) I barely made it to his barrel-like chest. He towered over me, drooling long spools of yellow green spit. Some dripped on my tiny, fat hands, and turned out to be wool. When it hit my hands, my fingers turned into wool too. But this didn't alarm me in the slightest.

Then my mother was picking me up.

"Aww," she cooed in her distinctly southern accent. "Look who's gotten into the paint again."

I nuzzled into her shoulder and realized that I was a baby again. I tried to explain to her that I was not actually a baby, but was thrown off by her straight black hair changing to bright red. Her southern coos became Scottish and suddenly she was Amy.

Amy carried me into the room that should've been the bathroom, but when she sat me down we were outside. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I was back to my normal height. Not to mention in a white dress.

For some reason, there was a full length mirror, standing on its own accord in the grass. I could see myself in it, dressed in white, wearing a crown of purple flowers.

I watched myself for a moment, but didn't really care when I turned green again. Then the Doctor was there. For a few moments he was converse, dressed in a black suit. Then he changed into bow tie. Bow tie smiled at me excitedly while I watched him passively. He turned into wool too. I didn't care about that either.

Suddenly, all of the energy seemed to drain out of world. Everything started to fade. The sun, the sky, the grass, and trees. I started to unravel, green yarn turning brown and withering away into piles. The same was happening to Weave Doctor. As he fell apart, he reached out to me with an unspooling arm, wordlessly begging me to come over to him. There was fear in his eyes and I knew that I should reach out to him. I didn't. Just faded away with the rest of our surroundings.

Then I wasn't there any more. I was in space, floating above the Earth, watching a spaceship hover over the planet below.

Olly was beside me. He screamed at the ship in a cold rage. He didn't want them there anymore.

The ship dissolved into molecules and faded into the surrounding vacuum.

Somehow, I knew that this part wasn't a dream.

"Mo. Mo. Monet!" An aggravated scottish voice sliced through the darkness. "Wake up. Something's happened. And I'm bored."

I groaned and forced my eyes open, though it didn't do much good. Awake was almost as dark as asleep.

"Amy…" I muttered groggily. "Do me a favor and shut up."

"I will not. I've been awake for ages. Something's happened, all the lights have gone out. Not to mention that we've woken up."

"Speak for yourself," I growled and pushed myself into a sitting position. I held a hand to my head and waited for my eyes to adjust. "Any clue where we are?"

"Not far from where we were, I reckon," she quipped cheerfully, happy to no longer be the only one awake. "And we aren't alone in here either."

"Huh?" I glanced over in the direction she indicated. There were several other people, asleep in low-hanging hammocks. I looked down and realized I was in a hammock too, with Amy standing beside me. "Who're they?"

"The other people that have been duplicated. Tom Benson, the manservant guy from the Manse, and a few others."

"But we're awake," I muttered to myself, still trying to clear my head.

"Yeah. Why'd you think that is?"

"Dunno... " I untangled a knot from my hair. "Maybe because we were the most recent to go under? Or because we aren't being duplicated anymore… the Doctor said that they have to keep the original alive to copy… so that's why they had to keep you alive… but then if you stopped being copied… you wake up." I thought some more. "Or at least that combined with whatever's escaped… power deficiency… or something."

"Escaped? What's escaped?" She climbed up into my wool hammock and sat cross legged, facing me.

I was as confused about the statement as she was. "I dunno… it just slipped out."

"No, there was a reason," Amy insisted. "You just think it's too stupid to mention. Tell me anyway."

I sighed and shook my head in defeat. "I was having some weird-ass dreams a minute ago. But then they changed. All of the energy left… everyone and everything in the dream… and uh… everyone in the dream turned into Weave... Yeah, I know… ha ha… but then I was in space, watching a ship in orbit. And then Olly… I dunno… made them… vaporize…" I was surprised to see her watching me intently. "It sounds weird… but that part didn't feel like a dream. I can usually tell when I'm dreaming. And it didn't feel like it."

"Was it the Tahnn ship?" Was the only thing she asked, much to my surprise.

"I...uh… yeah." I closed my eyes and nodded. "Yeah." I opened my eyes to gaze at her disbelievingly. "You don't really believe that, do you? Because right before that I was a baby that was turned into yarn by my yarn dog's drool."

Amy giggled. "You do have weird dreams. And yeah, why not? You're slightly psychic, so if you were plugged into the ship, it would make sense if you dreamed about what wa going on."

"I'm psychic?" I asked dumbly.

She giggled again. "Wow, you are young, aren't you? Just a tiny bit psychic, yeah. Not enough to do much until you're connected with another psychic. Did you really not know?"

I shook my head. "I haven't been at this long. Everyone knows more about me than I do. It's getting annoying."

"How long?"

"This is the third time I've met the Doctor, and the second time I've met you and Rory."

Amy laughed in disbelief. "That IS young. Youngest I've ever seen you." Her voice softened slightly. "Three times and you're already engaged to him?"

I blanched. Ths was a topic I had been hoping to avoid.

"Yeah. I guess," I said curtly.

"When did he ask? And did he actually ask? Get down on one knee and propose? Or was it more like 'here's a ring, we're getting married?'"

"The first time I met him, though he had already known me for ages, evidently. And he actually proposed."

"And you said yes? The first time meeting him and you said yes? I mean, he's hot and all, but first time is a bit rushed, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it was way too fast. And it feels way too fast."

"I saw the way you reacted when I told 128 about it," she said softly. "Are you upset about it?"

"No, not upset, I don't think anyway. I just… it hadn't sunk in, before today. I just sort of… pushed it to the back of my mind and worried about… other things."

"Other things? What's more important than getting engaged?"

I shook my head and slid out of the cot, standing uncertainly due to the after affects of the sleeping injection.

"It's complicated. But don't worry, you'll get there eventually." I gazed down the corridor. "We need to figure out what's happened."

Amy let out an exasperated puff of air and followed me into another part of the ship.

The room we had been in turned out to be an offshoot of the main structure. We entered the main space to see a large number of Weaves moving in and out of the walls. Being absorbed and re-emerging only to be absorbed again. Their facial expression were at best that of discomfort; pain at worst.

"What are they doing?" I hissed to my ginger companion.

Amy made a sound that started out as an answer but ended as a surprised squeal. A Weave had reached out from the doorframe and grabbed her arm. The face was that of the farmer from earlier. Tom benson. Or at least his wooly counterpart.

"Wheres 128? Or whatever she's called," Amy demanded.

Fake Tom didn't answer, just kept morphing in and out of the doorframe.

"It's like the ship is rejecting them," I murmured.

"Like a virus?" Amy added. "Antibodies, kicking out a virus?"

We were both startled by voice that came from our feet. "No, not a virus."

It was 128, absorbing and emerging repeatedly from the floor. Amy and I both dropped to our knees at her side.

"The ship is hurt," the commander explained, her voice rasping and painful. "The ship is hurt… the Glamour… leaked out."

"Glamour? What's the Glamour?" I asked urgently, although I already had a pretty good idea.

"The energy of the ship… it's being misused. The only way that the ship can survive is by absorbing our lives. When it exhausts those, it'll die anyway. We need the Glamour back of the ship will die…" She vanished into the floor again.

"Okay. So we find a thing called the Glamour and bring it back… Simple!" Amy tried to sound enthusiastic. "And I'm betting were not talking about a makeover."

"We need to know how to get back to the village," I asked the floor. No response. I let out a frustrated sigh before addressing Amy again. "Come on - The Glamour… or whatever it is… got out somehow. So I'm betting that there's a hole outside…"

Amy looked around the massive space that was only a single room in the massive ship. "Right, shouldn't be that hard then, eh?"

It took about fifteen minutes to find the rip in the ship. It was about half the height of a person and looked very much like someone had fallen on the ship. Through it I could see the weird shifting shadows caused by the swinging flashlights.

Amy went out first. As soon as she poked her head through the hole she exclaimed, "About blooming time!"

Her feet vanished from view and I followed in suit. I poked my head out of the tear to see her wrapping Rory in a tight hug. The Doctor spotted me and I saw the relief was over his face. He grinned and offered me a hand as I climbed out of the alien ship.

"Horribly vague message," he chidded playfully. "Didn't you ever learn how to use the spacebar?"

I gripped his arm for balance as I gingerly stepped over the dark green wool. "I was being sedated. Spaces are just a formality."

He chuckled and slipped his hand into mine, giving it a gente squeeze. "Alright, though?" His eyes searched mine carefully for any signs of hidden distress.

The intensity in his gaze made me shiver. Not unpleasantly so, either. I squeezed back. "All good. What've I missed?"

"Quite a lot, actually. I reunited with a little girl that wasn't a little girl anymore. You were right about Nathaniel Porter… he was a sort of Tahnn Weave hybrid. What else? Oh, Oliver absorbed a reality bending energy and got rid of the Tahnn. And kind of created a dream reality for himself and we had to get out of it because it was all just sort of a mirage. And now we have to figure out how to get it out of him and back into the ship…"

"Or else the Weave are going to die," I finished. "The ship's absorbing them. Any idea as to how to do that?" I looked around the cavern. "What's up with them?"

Enola and her team were standing around, absolutely still. Frozen where they stood. Not blinking or breathing. A movie paused mid-scene.

"Sort of the eye of the storm. Freeze frame." He glanced back at the manservant from the Manse. Chigger or whatever his name was. "But she's right 3."

"Ooh, I saw your original inside there." Amy nodded at 3 and waved at the ship's interior.

The Doctor snapped his fingers. "3, you can't manipulate the Glamour, can you?"

"Of course I can."

"But not in your current state. Otherwise, why did it go for Oliver? Why not any of your crew? I assume it's actually programmed to work for you lot. Entertainment system on long voyages, that sort of thing, yes?"

"Yes. But no, it doesn't work on injured crew members. An illness, a fever, the Glamour could go utterly haywire."

"Rather like it has done with Olly. So it can't go to a damaged Weave mind - and you're all damaged anyway in your natural state BECAUSE the Glamour can't go to you. Oh - bless the Oroboros-esque problems."

"What?" Rory voiced for us all.

"Catch 22, Rory. To stop the Glamour we need an undamaged Weave body to draw it out. All the Weave bodies are damaged by the Glamour, and the only way to un-damage them is to use the Glamour, which we can't…"

"Because all the bodies are damaged. Got it."

"So we need something more damaged than Oliver's mind. Or at least a confused one. You, me, Amy, Monet, old limpy John, wherever he is, we're useless. We're all too self-aware right now. But if one of the sleeping humans in there were suddenly awoken…"

3 shook his head sadly. "No good, Doctor. Whenever we take human form, we are obliged to give them full disclosure first. They all knew what was happening to them."

Amy and I agreed in unison.

"So in there is the the real Chivers, hopefully the real Marten Heinke and the real Nancy Thirman. That's all of you, yes 3?"

"Mrs. Porter!" Amy exclaimed.

"She's over there, Amy." The Doctor pointed to frozen Enola.

"No, not her. The first Mrs. Porter."

"Dead," 3 grunted.

"No, she's not. She's asleep in there. With the rest of them. She was in a cocoony thing, not like us. First-class service, I suppose, for the local aristocracy."

3 got excited. "No. If Amy's right…"

"She's always right," Rory muttered.

"If she was in a cocoon, it's because she's in hibernation. She's not been copied, she's being fed nutrient from the ship. There's no copy of Mrs. Porter, so she won't have been conditioned. Most likely 25463 tried to kill her and my people found her and saved her life."

The Doctor bounced on his toes eagerly. "Wake her up, she'll have the biggest shock, show her an alien and BAM! The Glamour will coe straight to her like a shot. The mixture of confused mind and its own ship, best bait we've got."

"But you're only guessing all this, aren't you?" Rory complained, scowling.

"Course I am." He flailed his hands about animatedly. "It's more fun that way." He turned to me with huge grin. "Show me the sleeping Beauties." Then he snatched up my hand again and spinted into the ship, dragging me behind him.

Amy and I showed the others through the ship and back to the chamber.

The Doctor whistled in admiration. "Blimey. This ship's huge."

"It stretches right out of the village and under…", Amy started to explain.

"A huge tree," Rory finished. "So that's what that was all about."

"What was what all about?"

"I asked a magic picture to tell me where you were and it showed me a tree."

"Magic picture?"

The Doctor stroked the hull of the ship affectionately. "Oh, clever ship. You grew all the way under Nathaniel Porter's psychic cage so the Weave could get in and out." He clapped his hands together. "Right, let's wake these people up."

3 began to morph into the ship's wool carefully. "This is dangerous, Doctor, because if I go too far into my true form, the ship will absorb me," he warned.

The Doctor's face darked. "You know how you told me this was all your fault, and I said not to be stupid, that it wasn't? Well, I lied. It was ENTIRELY your fault so, frankly, it's up to you to put it right."

3 nodded slowly and went deeper into the wall. And then, one by one, they all started to wake up.

"Amy, Rory," the Doctor addressed the pair. "Get them out of here. Back to somewhere that isn't the Manse, but far away from here."

"Why?"

"Because if this goes to plan, I'll need this ship to take off pretty quickly. And when it does, it'll take the school, these woods, and everything else above the ship with it."

Amy and Rory began to shepherd the dazed Nancy, Chivers, Marten, and Tom away as fast as their unsteady legs would allow. The Doctor called after them to promise that we would see them soon.

After giving them a few minutes head start, the Doctor turned his attention back to 3. "This is going to hurt you a lot, isn't it?"

I felt a wave of sadness. If it was that easy to be completely absorbed, 128 and the others were probably already dead. And even though they'd captured me and essentially ut me in a coma, I hadn't wanted them to die.

"The ship will reabsorb me if I go any farther into my own body. But I need to, to wake her up."

"I need more than that. She needs to see you do it, see you get reabsorbed. Because I need this poor old woman to be utterly terrified, shocked. Sorry."

I glared at him. Way to be sensitive.

But 3 only smiled. "I know you are."

The little remaining of his human appearance changed into his Weave form. He wrapped his wool hands around Mrs. Porter's head. She woke with a start, just in time so hear 3 let ou a blood-curdling scream of pain and be yanked violently back into the wall.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Porter wasn't frightened. In fact, she didn't seem seem impressed. All she did was ask what was going on.

I groaned and smacked my forehead.

The Doctor stared at the older woman. "What? No! Be scared, woman! Shocked! Amazed! Terrified! Anything! Why aren't you scared?"

I felt slightly sick. Another life. For nothing. Great.

"Of what?"

The Doctor groaned in despair. "Oh, blimey, the British stiff upper lip. Well, that was a waste of 3's sacrifice."

"No kidding," I snapped.

The Doctor turned to me and shrugged helplessly. He had just reached out to me, just like he had in my dream, when the walls sprang back to life. The Timelord's face broke into an ecstatic smile.

"What happened?" I asked in gleeful bewilderment.

"No idea!" He cried, snatching up both my hand and Mrs Porter's. "Someone must've had a fright. Maybe one of the group we sent ahead. Let's meet the crew, eh?"

As he pulled us out into the larger chamber, Mrs. Porter squalking indignantly, I noticed the crew emerging from the walls and floors, looking confused but pleased.

Within five minutes, we had all convened on the bridge. Amy and Rory took turns explaining how the archaeology team had woken from their frozen sleep when they had made it out of the ship. Enola then got to see Marten's Weave get absorbed, and had promptly started screaming. From there, the Glamour had answered to her, but ultimately been pulled back into the ship, therefore allowing the absorbed crew to separate and heal.

We said our goodbyes and exited the ship through the dig tunnel with Nancy Thirman, the first Mrs. Porter, Old John and Chivers. Enola, Marten, and Olly had decided to stay on the ship eager for space opportunities. From there we rushed back to the Manse, well out of the way of the ship, which was about to take off.

We stood there in the yard watching, waiting, until everything began to tremble. The ship broke free of the earth with a deafening roar, before it hummed quietly up, up into the sky and out of sight.

"It worked," Rory said.

"I didn't expect it to I have to say," the Doctor commented. "Nice to know that there are still a few surprises left in the universe."

Amy, Rory, the Doctor, and I walked by the crater were the school had been on our way back to the TARDIS. It was a big hole, no doubt.

"I bet the students will be happy," I remarked. "How many times have you come back from break and wished the school had blown up?"

The Doctor laughed and tugged me into his side. I tensed a bit but let him press a kiss to my temple.

We walked the last piece of the distance until we were only a few yard away from the TARDIS.

It was the Doctor who broke the silence. "Rory. What's up?"

I looked over at Rory to see his thoughtful, puzzled expression.

"Is that it Doctor?" He implored. "We came here, something huge happened, people died, people lost their homes, everything they believed in. And we just walk away? Is that how it goes?"

The Doctor pulled at his bowtie uncomfortably. "It's how life, the universe works, Rory. if we stayed behind after everything we do, we could end up spending days, weeks, years trying to help one community, one world rebuild. But I have to move on, otherwise another world might fall under the oppressors. We've done all we can here. We need to go."

"But then I also keep thinking about Oliver marks and his PTSD. In 2010, I could at least give people like him some understanding. There are people stuck here in 1936 who will suffer in silence for years. Unable to understand what's wrong with them."

The Doctor suddenly yanked Rory into a tight hug before kissing his forehead fondly. "Keep that in your head, Rory. Always. I need that compassion, that point of view around me. Because sometimes I forget that I've been doing this for so long, that there are consequences." His eyes shifted to me, where he fixed me in an extremely tender gaze.

I blushed and fidgeted, unsure of how to respond.

The Doctor turned his attention away from me and onto Amy. "He's a keeper, this one," he told her matter of factly.

"I know," Amy said. "That's why I marrying him in about seventy-five years time."

The Doctor grinned between the two for a moment before scowling. "Blimey, this is all a bit touchy-feely isn't it?" He clapped his hands. "Come on, TARDIS time, quick bath and then on to Rio for us, back to school for Monet."

"Why do I have to go back to school?" I whined.

"Because you're still embryonic and need to finish your education. I won't be responsible for that."

"Embryonic?" I cried indignantly.

The Doctor strode over to the TARDIS doors. "Yes. You've got a long way to go before you start staying on the TARDIS for longer periods of time. So…"

Whatever he was going to say, it was cut off as he suddenly vanished from sight. Damn, the same hill, the same pile of sheep crap…

I peered down the hillock to where the Doctor had landed in the same sheep dip with a dramatic splash.

The same sheep bleated at the man that was sitting in the bath again.

"Oh, shut up," said the Doctor crossly.

Amy and Rory were having a moment, so I focused on the Doctor trudging back up the hill, ery grumpy indeed.

"Not a word," he said almost-menacingly, pointing into my grinning face as he unlocked the blue doors and led the way inside.

"Definitely take a bath before Rio," I laughed.

He did a mock scowl and slammed don the dematerialization lever, taking us away from 1936 England and into deep space.

 _ **Sorry about the butchered end. I'll do better on future chapters. Anyway, Pls review and tell me what you did and didn't like. The whole point of writing fanfics is to work on my narrative skills... it's especially important now bc I'm worldbuilding for a novel that I want to write and I want to work out my writing kinks before I**_ _ **actually**_ _ **start on it. So tell me what's cool and what's annoying. PLEASE.**_


	15. Aliens of London: Part One

**Chapter Fifteen: Aliens of London: Part One**

When the Doctor, Amy, and Rory dropped me back off at school, I had expected to have to wait only a couple of days before the blue box materialized again.

One day passed.

Then two.

Five.

A week.

Three.

I was losing my mind.

Normal life, which had already been lackluster before aliens and magic boxes, had become mind-numbingly boring. I started jumping at every sound, ears pricked for the wheezing, grinding noise that heralded the arrival of something interesting.

Then at last, a month and half later, I heard it. I didn't imagine it either, though that had happened more than once.

I had just walked out of the art museum, where I had met up with mom for lunch, and was ambling across the large greeny-brown lawn that sat between the various museums when the mechanical wheezing drifted across the grassy expanse on the frozen breeze.

The park wasn't particularly crowded, as it was too cold for anyone to want to loiter about; but I did have to duck around a few tour groups that were in between museums and got huffed at by an old lady that was rather miffed when I photobombed her attempt at a picture of her weasley shrimp of a grandson.

The blue box finished materializing with a decisive thud, leaving it parked neatly between two trees directly across the grass strip. I paused for a moment when the door opened, its creak of complaint slicing across the cool air, and watched as a man that I hadn't seen before poked his head out. He was too far away to pick out much in the way of details, but I could plainly see the dark leather jacket.

I walked across the grass warily. The man that I assumed was the Doctor stepped outside. His sharp eyes scanned the scenery with mild interest, until they settled on me, of course; then they quickly adjusted to match the sudden frown.

"Monet," he grunted in a heavy accent, settling back against the blue wood with his arms crossed.

"Hello," I returned cautiously, slowing to a stop a couple yards in front of him. He looked older than either of his two future selves, and Bow-tie had been accurate in his comment about his nose and ears. Despite that and his short-cropped hair that made his head look a bit egg shaped, he wasn't altogether unattractive. In fact, he had rather nice cheekbones, elegant lips, and dazzlingly icy blue eyes that contrasted with the rest of his demeanor; dark purple shirt, dark pants, dark boots, and dark hair. "What's up, Doc?"

The Doctor shrugged, still scowling, before squinting a bit. "You're younger than last time."

I scowled back for good measure. "So are you."

"Blimey, am I always gonna have to keep you two from fighting?" Another voice echoed out of the TARDIS to slice through the tension.

A blonde girl poked her head out. She had to be about my age, in baggy jeans and a burgundy-ish hoodie with gray sleeves. Early 2000's fashion. Nice.

She smiled, friendly but curious. "And younger? How can you both be younger?"

"Time travel, Rose," the Doctor answered gruffly. "Nothing happens in the right order."

"It can get confusing," I added.

"No kidding," Rose laughed, grinning with her tongue between her teeth. "So have you met me, then? We've only met you once, at…"

"Don't give away too much," the Doctor cut her off. "Foreknowledge isn't always a good thing."

"...Nevermind," Rose finished sheepishly. "Are we just going to stand here all day? You told me I could go back and visit my mum." She vanished back inside.

The Doctor cast me one last skeptical glance before following, leaving the door open as an indication for me to come along.

The TARDIS interior was more or less the same as Converse's, though maybe a little less well lit. The time machine sent her usual hum of greeting, causing me to smile and the Doctor, who seemed aware of the exchange, to frown again.

The Time Lord flipped a switch and the TARDIS roared to life.

. . .

When we landed again, Rose bounded to the doors and stepped outside, the Doctor and I close behind.

The weather in London was nicer than it was from the place I had left, even if the scenery wasn't. We were in an alley between apartment buildings, the sun shining on the cracked asphalt and colorful splotches of graffiti. Rose spun around, taking it in as if it were the most beautiful place she'd ever seen.

"How long have I been gone?" Rose asked the Doctor, who had closed the TARDIS door and was leaning back against it.

"About twelve hours," he answered, the flicker of a smile gracing his features.

Rose laughed in amazement, her simple glee making both the Doctor and I chuckle as well.

"Oh! Right I won't be long," the blonde started down the alley, waving her finger at us. "I just want to see my mum."

"What're you gonna tell her?" The Doctor asked.

Rose paused and scrunched up her face thoughtfully. "I don't know. I've been to the year five billion and only been gone, what, twelve hours?"

The Doctor snorted.

"No, I'll just tell her I spent the night at Sharine's," Rose concluded with a wave. "See you later. Don't you disappear. And no arguments while I'm gone." The girl, whom I was starting to like, waved her finger accusingly before breaking into a jog towards one of the buildings.

I frowned. "Did we argue a lot the last time you guys saw me?"

"Nah. She's playing it up," the Doctor said dismissively.

"And you've only just met me? Like, once before this?"

The Doctor coughed nervously. "Yeah, just the once." He shoved his hands into his pockets and began ambling around the alley aimlessly. He kicked at an empty plastic bottle. "You?"

"A couple of times," I admitted.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks before striding purposefully over to a metal column with cracked paint. The column had a piece of paper loosely taped to it, allowing the sheet to fold over on itself in the breeze. The Doctor smacked the paper flat so he could read it.

"Oh no," he sighed, and shot off after Rose.

I took a second to read the sign. A missing person flyer. A blonde girl. 'Oh no' indeed.

By the time I caught up with them, the Doctor was leaning in the doorway of one of the apartments, explaining to Rose and a distraught, plump woman that it hadn't been twelve hours, it had been twelve months.

"You've been gone a whole year." The Doctor gave an apologetic, goofy grin. "Sorry."

. . .

Rose's mom got over the initial shock fairly quickly, so naturally, we were being yelled at. With a police officer as witness.

Rose sat, huddled up on a chair while the Doctor and I stood uncomfortably on either side of her.

"What the hell does that even mean, travelling?" Rose's mom, Jackie, shouted. "That's no sort of answer! You ask her," she implored the police officer, who looked as uncomfortable as we were. "That's all she says, 'travelling'."

"That's what I was doing," Rose tried again, close to tears.

"Well your passport's still in the drawer," Jackie snapped. "It's just one lie after another!"

"I meant to phone, I really did. I just… forgot."

"What, for a year? You forgot for a year? And I am left sitting here. I just don't believe you. Why won't you tell me where you've been?"

"Actually it's my fault," the Doctor tried. "I sort of employed Rose as my companion."

I winced at the description. It definitely made it sound like a …

"When you say companion, is this a sexual relationship?" The suddenly-interested policeman piped up.

… Yeah. Like that.

"No!" Both the Doctor and Rose cried simultaneously.

"Then what is it?" Jackie snarled into the Doctor's hapless face. "Because you… you waltz in here, all charm and smiles, and the next thing I know, she vanishes off the face of the Earth! How old are you, then, fourty? Forty-five? What, did you find her on the internet? Did you go online and pretend you're a doctor?"

"I am a doctor," the alien tried again with a weak smile.

"Prove it. Stitch this, mate." Jackie reared back and slapped the Doctor with all her might, causing him to stumble back with a grunt of pain.

I winced sympathetically and chewed on my thumbnail, glad to have been allowed to go unnoticed so far. I felt bad for Rose. And her mom. I couldn't imagine my parents having to cope with me missing for a year. Nor could I imagine having to face them after being gone for that long. A cold lump formed in my stomach. They didn't know where I was. It was a very real possibility that I hadn't considered.

My luck ran out. Jackie turned on me.

"And what about you then? You're Rose's age. Do your parents know where you are? Or have you abandoned them as well?" She growled venomously.

"I… uh…" I twirled my hair anxiously. "I'm just visiting…"

Jackie took that as confirmation that I had also abandoned my family without a trace. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

. . .

Eventually Rose's mother calmed back down into tears, allowing the policeman, the Doctor, and I to slip away while the mother and daughter had their emotional reunion. The Doctor went back in the direction of the TARDIS to nurse his bruised pride while I waited outside the front door for Rose.

After a bit, Rose came outside, wiping at her tears.

"She's settled back down now," Rose told me. "She calling everyone to tell them that I'm still alive."

"That… that sucks. Really." I shook my head hopelessly, not entirely sure of what to say. "I can't even imagine…"

"Yeah." Rose scratched at her head. "I was gonna go up to the roof and get some air."

"Want me to come?"

"Yeah. Company's always good."

. . .

The roof had a nice view. Rose went over and scooted up onto an elevated brick section and I hopped up after her to sit cross-legged.

" I can't tell her," Rose sighed. "I can't even begin."

"Yeah. She'd just think the travelling included drugs. Drug cartel… that's… not that unreasonable."

She rolled her eyes. "Fat lot of good you are. Though she was right about one thing. How old are you, anyway?"

"Eighteen. Nearly Nineteen."

"So we are the same age then."

"Doesn't really give the Doctor a good profile, does it?"

Rose laughed. "Travelling with two girls that are way younger than him."

"Fits the creepy online stalker man. Or a pimp. Space Pimp"

"What about your parents? Do they know about all this?"

I shook my head and picked at my shoe. "No. I haven't even really thought about it. It just seemed too ridiculous to even consider."

Rose shifted around to face me with the grin and eager demeanor of someone ready to gossip. "You and the Doctor then. What's that about?"

Caught off-guard by the sudden change in topic, I stuttered, "Wait, what?"

"You know… you and him. The last time I saw you, you were running rings around him, teasing and bickering. Are you like his wife? His wife from the future?"

I blinked. "Great question. No idea." I shook my head unhappily at the term 'wife'. "It's weird."

"Yeah, but how weird is weird?" She scooted forward suddenly to grab my hand and study it. "You've got a ring and everything. Did he give it to you?"

I internally cursed myself for wearing the blasted piece of jewelry on the significant finger again. "Yeah."

"He gave you an engagement ring?"

Nod.

"And you're still not sure if you're his wife from the future?"

"I don't know!" I wailed comically and flopped over on my back with a dramatic air, causing Rose to giggle.

"Does he love you?" Rose asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

I covered my face with my hands and groaned incoherently.

She giggled again. "Do you at least like him?"

"I just met him," I mumbled from behind my hands.

"But you still wear the ring?"

I lifted my left hand straight up in the air to look at the snowflake shaped jewel arrangement at arm's length. "It's too pretty not to wear."

"On your ring finger?"

"I don't know! I usually don't at home and school and whatever, but then I move it without realizing," I whined, letting my hand flop back down near my head.

"It's like you've got a secret lover. Double life. Slip it off when he's away but put it back on when he's there."

"What else am I supposed to do? Mom, Dad, I'm technically engaged to a man I've met four times. He's a time travelling alien, by the way."

"Aw, you do like him!" Rose crooned. "If you didn't you wouldn't move it back. That's so sweet."

I groaned helplessly and covered my face with my hands again. As unsettling as even thinking about this was, it felt really good to talk about it. I suddenly wished Penny knew about the aliens and stuff. But she didn't. Rose did, though. Eh, what the hell.

"I don't know," I admitted reluctantly and sat back up. "I keep meeting him when he's farther along the line than I am, so he knows everything about me. Everything. It's freaky and I never know how to respond."

"He doesn't know you now though." Rose smiled sympathetically. "He knows that he will know you, because you knew him before." She rubbed my shoulder comfortingly. "He's as freaked out as you are. But now you're on even ground. You can sort it all out."

"I guess," I admitted glumly. "What about you? What are you going to do about your mom?"

"I dunno," Rose mumbled, pulling her knees to her chest. "I can't tell her. She's never going to forgive me."

"There you are," the Doctor's Northern accent came over from the stairs. I tensed. How long had he been there? If he had been eavesdropping, he gave no sign of it, just came over and leaned back against the brick rise we were sitting on.

"And I missed a year," Rose continued, automatically including the alien in the conversation. "Was it good?"

I wrinkled my nose. "2005? I was like, five or six. No idea."

We both glanced at the Doctor.

"Middling," was all he had to say.

"You're so useless," Rose huffed.

"Well, if it's this much trouble, are you going to stay here now?" The Doctor asked bitterly.

"I don't know," she sighed. "Can't do that to her again, though."

"Well, she's not coming with us," the Doctor said firmly. All three of us broke into laughter.

"No chance!" Rose laughed.

"I don't do families," the alien added.

"She slapped you!"

He frowned, still a bit sore on the incident. "900 years of time and space and I've never been slapped by someone's mother."

"Your face," Rose crooned.

"It hurt!" The Doctor reached up to touch the cheek in question.

"You're so gay!" Rose watched him rub his cheek for a moment. "When you say 900 years…"

The Doctor put his hand back down. "That's my age."

"You're 900 years old?"

"Yeah."

Rose blinked at him for a moment. "My mum was right, that is one hell of an age gap." She jumped down from her perch and walked off a short ways. "Every conversation I have with you just goes mental. I've seen all that stuff up there, the size of it, and I can't say a word. Aliens and spaceships and things, and we're the only people on planet Earth that knows they exist."

What happened next was a moment that my religious grandmother would describe as evidence that God had a sense of humour. A spaceship, big and green-gray with honking horns and flashing lights came soaring across the rooftops, low enough that we felt it necessary to duck down below the brick section as it passed overhead.

We watched in amazement as it swerved crazily around in the sky until it crashed into the river, the Thames, if I had any concept of London, crashing into what appeared to be Big Ben on its way down.

We stood, staring after it, trying to process what had just happened.

"Oh, that's just not fair," Rose complained weakly.

A massive grin crossed the Doctor's face. He laughed excitedly before grabbing both of our hands and hauling us to the stairs.

The streets were already blocking up. Big military trucks, manned by armed soldiers, were blocking off the street. We ran into the road, where people were gathering .

"It's blocked off," the Doctor gave voice to the obvious.

"We're miles from the centre," Rose added breathlessly. "The city must be gridlocked. The whole of London must be shutting down."

The Doctor was like a child on Christmas morning. "I know, I can't believe I'm here to see this. This is fantastic."

"Did you know this was going to happen?" Rose asked.

"Nope!"

"Did you recognize the ship?" I asked.

"Nope!"

"Do you know why it crashed?"

"Nope!"

"Oh, I'm so glad I've got you," Rose remarked sarcastically.

The Doctor didn't notice or care about the tone of her comment. "I bet you are. This is what I travel for, Rose, to see history happening right in front of us."

"Well, let's go and see it," Rose prompted. "Never mind the traffic. We've got the TARDIS."

"Hmm, better not. They've already got one spaceship in the middle of London. And I don't wanna shove another one on top."

"Yeah, but yours looks like a big blue box. No one's gonna notice."

"You'd be surprised, an emergency like this. There'll be all kinds of people watching. Trust me, the TARDIS stays where it is."

"So history's happening, and we're stuck here?"

The Doctor seemed less concerned than Rose or I. "Yes, we are."

I sighed and watched the soldiers pace about, trying to keep the crowds annoyed confusion in check. "Now what?"

"We could do what everybody else does," Rose offered. "We could watch it on TV."

Now the Doctor was concerned. He furrowed his brow in slight confusion and distaste, but agreed.

. . .

Much to my surprise, Jackie let the Doctor and I back into her apartment with minimal complaint. Although the older blonde woman was still fussing, the worst of the shouting was done by another woman of Jackie's age. Probably Jackie's closest friend. Nevertheless, Jackie served tea and insults while the Doctor skimmed through the news channels, more or less ignorant to the general aggravation. I busied myself by checking through my phone, looking for news articles from and around 2005 that might shed some light on the event, hoping they wouldn't notice that there was an IPhone 6S in 2005.

I looked up from an article about an alien hoax when I heard the news anchor mention a body.

"They've found a body. It's unconfirmed, but I'm being told that a body had been found in the wreckage, a body of non-terrestrial origins."

I was so absorbed by the blurry zoomed-in footage of two people carrying a stretcher with a figure covered by a white sheet that I didn't notice the handful of other people come in the apartment until the channel was abruptly changed from the news to a baking show explaining how to make a cake kind of shaped like a crappy spaceship.

The Doctor was wrestling a little boy, probably somewhere between two and three, for the remote. The Doctor won and sat the child on his lap, returning the channel back to its initial state in time for the reporter to say 'Albion Hospital'.

Upon the arrival of several more guests, the room became a bit too crowded for my taste, especially since I didn't know anyone.

I managed to escape outside unnoticed. The narrow walkway was illuminated by the setting sun, casting strange shadows at my feet. I hopped over to the stairs, keeping the childlike rule of only stepping on patches of light, and sat on the third stair from the top.

There were a top of articles relating to the London crash. Chronologically, they all started out labeling the crash as legit, but then shifted to the ordeal being concluded as hoax. Though there were a few that mentioned 10 Downing Street being blown up by a rogue missile. An accident. Misfire. Malfunction. Not good.

The sun dipped below the horizon and its light was replaced by that of the automatic lights that popped on behind me. I didn't know how long we would be here, but I didn't want to stay on the stairs all night. I supposed I could go to the TARDIS, but I had the feeling that the Doctor, this Doctor, wouldn't appreciate it.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long for an answer. I had given up on news articles in favor of 2017 Tumblr when I heard voices coming from somewhere above and behind me. Although I couldn't quite distinguish what they were saying from the noises of the party being thrown in the building adjacent, I was close enough to identify the Doctor's unique accent and Rose's lighter tones.

The Doctor very nearly stepped on me as he descended the stairs, only missing me my a quarter inch because he managed a quick sidestep.

"Oi! What're you doing out here?" He asked, leaning on the rail behind him in order to regain his compromised balance.

"It got crowded," I shrugged, returning my attention to my phone.

"Just a bit too human for me," he agreed. "Find anything online?"

"Yes and no," I answered. "There are a number of things about it online, but within like a day everything starts being about hoaxes and stuff." I pressed the side button on the device and leaned forward on my elbows. "And I never heard about it. This was in 2005 and has been covered pretty well, but I know more about Roswell than I do about a ship wrecking Big Ben."

"It's not that surprising," the Doctor admitted. "The bigger something is, the more people want to cover it up with something that makes sense." He took a few steps down. "I'm… uh… going for a walk."

I snorted. "Sure you are."

He turned back with his eyebrows raised. "What?" He asked innocently.

"You. Going for a walk when there's a mystery alien body in a human hospital." I shook my head disbelievingly. "No. I don't think so."

He frowned. "That's what Rose said. And I'll tell you what I told her. It's got nothing to do with me. It's not an invasion. It was a genuine crash landing. Angle of descent, color of smoke, everything." He started down the stairs again.

I hummed thoughtfully, causing the Doctor to sigh and turn around once more.

"You disagree," he stated flatly. "Go on then."

"Dunno." I shrugged. "But the whole 'aliens-in-a-cornfield' trope is big where I'm from. And it makes sense, an alien landing in a place where there aren't many people around to see." I gestured vaguely in the direction where the ship had crashed. "But this guy, he crashed dead center in a densely populated area, and hit one of the major landmarks on the way down."

"You've never been in a crashing spaceship. There isn't a lot of control." The Doctor had on an almost condescending tone, but his eyes were focused and thoughtful, indicating that I had a point.

"Well… maybe," I pressed, encouraged by the expression. "But he wasn't entirely out of control either, was he? There was enough power to swerve around and kind of control crash in the water, so why not at least try to aim for the outskirts?"

The Doctor's brow creased in consideration, but he shrugged it off. "Maybe, but it's more likely that the ship's navigation was offline, and the pilot wanted to land in water." He turned to leave again, but stopped to look back. "You might as well come along, too. No point in sitting on the stairs all night."

"What, for a walk?" I asked teasingly as I stood.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and continued on his way.

"What about Rose?" I asked, taking the stairs two at a time in order to catch up. "Won't she be upset that we went without her?"

"We'll be back," he grunted. "She should spend some time with her mum. I don't want to make things worse between them."

"So you don't get slapped again?"

The Doctor sighed wearily and opened the door to the outside lot. Once outside, it was clear that people had been prepping for the alien visitor. Banners hung randomly, saying anything from 'Welcome E.T.' to 'The Aliens Have Landed!'.

"It's like Independence Day," I commented.

The Doctor's brow furrowed in confusion. "What's it got to do with July Fourth?"

"Not the day. The movie," I corrected. "You know, it has Will Smith in it?"

"Oi, gorgeous, come back and join the party!" A drunk woman called down at the Doctor from the balcony of the place that was throwing a party.

The Doctor ignored her and pulled out his TARDIS key to open the door. He then took the remaining space between the doors to the console at a run, barely slowing to pull at the controls as he danced around the center of the machine eagerly.

I closed the door behind me and grinned as he gleefully looked up at the glowing blue lights that began to heave as the box set into motion, obviously pleased to be back in his own element after spending time trapped in the alien-y human one.

. . .

The TARDIS landed in a large storage closet. The Doctor tried the door handle, but it didn't budge. He pulled out the sonic and set to work, making me smile when he shushed the screwdriver for whirring too loud.

The door finally opened with a click and swung open to reveal a group of soldiers sitting and chatting while on break.

From around the Doctor's arm, I watched in horror as they threw down their drinks and picked up their guns. The lights on the guns were annoyingly bright, though I suppose the light was more tolerable than bullets.

Before the soldiers could decide what to do with us, a scream sliced through the air.

Ever the one for action, the Doctor used the distraction to take command.

"Defence plan Delta!" He barked, ducking around the confused soldiers to charge down the corridor that led to the source of the scream. "Come on, move! Move!"

The soldiers, uncertain but willing, fell into formation behind him, forming two even rows that jogged obediently beside but slightly behind the new man that was giving orders. I followed after them, wanting to be included but out of the way.

I passed around the soldiers when the Doctor turned a corner and knelt down to face a trembling woman in a lab coat, cowering behind a metal table with a revolver. I squatted down beside him.

"It's alive," the woman hissed, plainly terrified.

The Doctor whipped around to give another order. "Spread out, tell the perimeter it's a lockdown."

They looked confused, probably reevaluating following the orders of the strange man they found in a closet.

"Oh, my God. It's still alive!" The woman gasped to the Timelord, who hurried over to kneel in front of her.

"Do it!" He snapped at the men, who hadn't moved. They did now, apparently electing that following the orders of someone who seemed to know what was going on was preferable to stumbling around in confusion.

"I swear it was dead," the woman gasped as they left.

"Coma, shock, hibernation, anything," the Doctor urged. "What does it look like?"

Before the woman could answer, something metal clanked on the other side of the room, somewhere behind the large stainless steel operating table.

"It's still here," the Doctor breathed.

He stood gracefully and backpedaled to get the attention of the soldier positioned outside the door while I moved in to crouch in front of the woman, taking her hands in mine and giving them a reassuring squeeze. The Doctor motioned for the soldier to take a position in front of the woman and I while he investigated.

The Doctor crept around the table silently, dropping suddenly to all fours in response to the same clanking sound that made me jump. He crawled the rest of the way. I lost sight of him when he crept around the backside of the desk situated near the back wall. I held my breath and could sense the woman doing the same.

For a moment the only sound was my heart pounding, but then there were a few animal-like snorts, followed by the Doctor's cheerful 'hello'.

Then there was a frightened squeal, followed by a short creature that resembled the Rocket Raccoon version of a pig running around the table and making a break for the door.

The soldier raised his gun.

"Don't shoot!" The Doctor cried, re-emerging from the other side of the desk.

The soldier lowered the gun and watched in bewilderment as the strange, squealing creature streaked by him in its awkward, waddling run.

The Doctor ran after it, and I after him.

The other soldiers got to it first. A single gunshot rang out, and I rounded the corner to see the Doctor advancing on the guilty person.

"Why did you do that for? It was scared!" The Doctor cried out angrily, coming down to kneel by the creature's head, stroking its snout soothingly as it passed. "It was scared."

. . .

We had the alien carried back to the examination room where the woman from before, Dr. Sato, had recovered enough to explain her findings.

"I just assumed that's what aliens looked like," she explained. "But you're saying it's an ordinary pig, from Earth?"

"More like a mermaid," the Doctor corrected, his voice low and tense. It was easy to see that the creature's death had hit him harder than he was ready to admit. "Victorian showmen used to draw the crowds by by taking the skull of a cat, gluing it to a fish, and calling it a mermaid. Now someone's taken a pig, opened up its brain, stuck bits on, then they've strapped it in that ship, made it dive bomb. It must've been terrified." He gritted his teeth. "They've taken this animal and turned it into a joke."

I shook my head sadly, at a loss for words. Well, I had one: disgusting. Though there wasn't much point in saying it outloud, as I was certain the other two were already thinking it.

"So it's a fake, a pretend, like the mermaid," Dr. Sato restated. She ruffled through her clipboard. "But the technology augmenting its brain, it's like nothing on Earth…"

The Doctor had stopped listening. He grabbed my arm at the elbow and steered me out of the room and back in the direction of the TARDIS, not leaving the option of telling Dr. Sato we were leaving. She didn't seem to notice.

The Doctor didn't let go of my arm until he unlocked the door and shoved me roughly inside in front of him. He then stalked around to throw the levers to set the TARDIS into motion.

I paced around wearily.

"You okay?" I asked gently.

"Fine," he growled in return.

"Sure?" I pressed cautiously, not entirely sure how he would respond to being prodded by someone that already unsettled him.

"Yes," he snapped back. "Just a bit put off by humanity's primitive impulsiveness."

"That's not fair," I said, keeping my tone low and soft. "They didn't know."

"Oh, that's right," the Doctor agreed in a dangerously cheerful voice. "Because you know everything, don't you?" The cheerful mask dripped away to reveal a face like thunder. "The mysterious Monet. Always on the moral high ground."

I swallowed nervously, regretting the decision to try and peel away one of his layers while he was still upset.

"'Trust me, Doctor,'" he simpered in a mocking rendition of a female voice. "'I understand, Doctor'. Trust you? Like bloody hell! You didn't think I'd notice? I scanned you last time, Monet!"

He stalked around the console toward me, backing me against the railing. I cowered against the metal, shocked by the sudden aggression. He made no move to touch me, but his towering figure and wrathful expression were more than enough to strip away any false bravado I might have been able to conjure up in another circumstance.

"You've got Timelord DNA!" He shouted. "How the hell do you expect me to TRUST YOU when you use my own homeworld against me? Are you a trick? A trap? A pathetic attempt to get at me? Because it wouldn't be the first time! And I'm not about to roll over for a manipulative bitch just because she smiles and says she's from my future!"

I had been staring up at him in terror, but when I spotted a flicker of pain dance across his face, I snapped out of it.

I mustered every seed of courage I had and drew myself up to my full height. I was still decently shorter than him, but I focused all five feet four inches of me into a confident stance, meeting his angry gaze with the hard, no-nonsense one that I had picked up from my grandmother.

"Doctor," I snapped, my voice strong and clear. "I don't know what happened the last time you met me. And I don't know shit about your future and the part I play in it."

He didn't move, but there was a definite shift in his face; allowing me to see past the mask and into his confusion and uncertainty. I could tell that his outburst had caught him off-guard every bit as much as it had me, and that he was already starting to regret it. I lowered my voice a bit and continued.

"This is the fourth time I've met you, and the first time I've seen this face. So yeah, I might know a few more things about your future than you do. But really, I don't get it either. So if you'd be so kind as to drag your head out of your suspicious ass, we might make some headway into figuring it out."

I stopped for breath and softened my tone again so that I was speaking in my normal voice.

"Yes, my DNA is weird. I only half get it myself. And what I do understand, I can't tell you. But I will tell you that I am not Timelord. I am not from your planet. Nor am I related to anyone that is. I won't ask you to trust me, but I ask that you accept it like it is."

"How do I know, though?" The Doctor's voice was still tense, but had lost its angry edge. "How do I know that you're not a trick? How do I know that 'accepting it' isn't a death sentence?"

"Do I look like a murderer to you?" I huffed.

He didn't respond, but held my gaze unblinkingly.

I racked my brain for a solution. The loss of his homeworld was too fresh to trust me right off the bat. And he did have a point. He was the last of his kind, wasn't he? Suddenly running into someone with DNA like mine would undoubtedly be suspicious. I needed something to prove that I was legit, and wasn't going to stab him in the back. My mind fell on the word Bow-tie had told me on the first day I met him. A secret. A secret secret enough for Bow-tie to feel the need to whisper even though we had been alone.

I leaned forward to repeat it into this Doctor's ear. I sensed him stiffen, and when I leaned back I watched as all of the blood drained out of his face, leaving him white as a sheet.

"Who told you that?" He asked weakly.

"You did," I said softly. "Or you will. Are we good?"

The Doctor gave the barest of nods and stepped away shakily.

"We should go back and get Rose," I suggested. "She won't be happy if she finds out we left without her."

The Doctor shook his head as if to clear it and hopped back over to the controls, trying to regain his usual demeanor.

"Right then," he said, "backwards."


	16. Aliens of London: Part Two

_**Hey, look, another chapter. Please Comment**_

 **Chapter Sixteen: Aliens of London; Part Two**

Rose came hushing in as soon as we landed, clearly having been waiting. She ran up from behind the Doctor, who was studying the console with his back to the door.

"All right, so I lied. I went and had a look," the Doctor explained dryly without looking at her. "But the whole crash landing's a fake. I thought so. Just too perfect."

" _I_ thought so," I sniffed from my place on the other side of the console.

The Doctor ignored me and continued in his explanation. "I mean, hitting Big Ben? Come on."

I sighed loudly.

"So I thought, 'let's go and have a look'..."

"My mum's here," Rose cut in.

I redirected my attention to the door to see Jackie and a dark skinned man just inside the double doors. Jackie was in shock, covering her mouth with her hands. The man was less impressed, in fact, he seemed more irritated than anything.

"Oh, that's just what I need," the Doctor complained. He pointed at Rose accusingly. "Don't you dare make this place domestic."

"You ruined my life, Doctor," the guy accused. "They thought she was dead." The Doctor spun around to face him. "I was a murder suspect because of you."

The Doctor glared at the newcomer, unimpressed. His only response was to glance at Rose. "See what I mean? Domestic!"

The man stalked forward. "I bet you don't even remember my name!"

The Doctor whipped around. "Ricky."

"It's Mickey," Mickey snapped.

"No, it's Ricky," the Doctor corrected moodily.

"I think I know my own name!"

I rested my elbows on the console and cupped my chin in my hands as I watched the two square off. It was only by chance that I saw Jackie trying to slip away out of the corner of my eye.

"You think you know your own name? How stupid are you?"

"Ah… Rose…" I pushed myself away from the console and pointed urgently to Jackie.

"Mum, don't! Don't go anywhere!" Rose cried, tuning on her heel to chase after her mother. "Don't go anywhere," she ordered the Doctor. "Don't start a fight," was the instruction given to Mickey.

She was only gone for a few seconds, evidently having decided that the fake alien needed more attention than the distraught woman. Couldn't say I blamed her.

"That was a real spaceship?" Rose asked as she bounded back up to the Doctor and the monitor.

"Yep!" The Doctor didn't look away from whatever he was doing.

"So it was all a pack of lies? What is it, then, that they're invading?"

"Funny way to invade, putting the world on red alert," Mickey chimed.

"Depends on what they want," I answered.

"Good point!" The Doctor admitted reluctantly. "So, what're they up to?"

I walked around the console and peered at the screen. It was a video of the spaceship in the river, from one of the news reports I'd seen earlier.

The Doctor moved away from the screen and got down on his knees. He worked his fingers under one of the metal gratings on the floor and lifted it out of the way so he could get down under it.

Mickey ambled over and peered down at the alien, who was laying on his back, sonicing some wires.

'So what you doing down there?" Mickey asked.

"Ricky," the Doctor started impatiently.

"Mickey."

"Ricky," the Doctor insisted. "If I was to tell you what i was doing to the controls of my frankly magnificent time ship, would you even begin to understand?"

"I suppose not."

"Well, shut it then."

I had been standing over beside Rose, but when Mickey came over to her, hands shyly stuffed in his pockets, I decided to move away. Boyfriend-girlfriend drama was not my forte, which was especially unfortunate, considering my own bizarre relationship status.

I leaned back against the console, beside the space that the Doctor was working, keeping my back to Rose and Mickey and pretending not to listen. From what I could tell, the did care about each other, but it was plain hat Rose wasn't as interested in him as he was her. Ouch.

"Got it!" The Doctor laughed suddenly. He sprung up and went back to the screen. "Patched in the radar and looped it back twelve hours so it'll follow the flight of the spaceship. Here we go." Rose and I came over to flank him, staring at the screen. When it didn't work right away, the Doctor smacked the side of the monitor impatiently. "Come on!"

The screen beeped and displayed a diagram of the planet. A streak, representing an object in orbit, curved around the sphere.

"That's the spaceship, on its way to Earth. See?" The Doctor explained. "Except, hold on…"

The line had indicated that the ship landed, but then it popped up on the other side of the planet to descend again.

'See? The spaceship did a slingshot round the Earth before it landed."

"What does that mean?" Rose asked.

"Means it came from Earth in the first place. It went up and came back down. Whoever those aliens are, they haven't just arrived. They've been here for a while. Question is, what've they been doing?"

The Doctor started channel surfing again, now looking for anything and everything that seemed suspicious or out of the ordinary. People protesting. Riot police. Nothing too strange. I guess?

"How many channels you get?" Mickey asked, looking between the Doctor and Rose's shoulders.

"All the basic packages," was the Doctor's uninterested reply.

"You get sports channels?"

"Yes, I get the football," the Doctor sighed. Then he leaned forward to point at the screen. "Hold on. I know that lot. UNIT! United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. Good people."

I snorted. "That's a change in tune."

I saw him cast me a glance out of the corner of my eye, but wasn't able to determine his expression.

"How do you know them?" Rose inquired, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"Cause he's worked for them," Mickey answered, taking me by surprise. "Oh, yeah. Don't think I sat on my backside for twelve months, Doctor. I read up on you! You look deep enough on the internet or in the history books, and there's his name. Followed by a list of the dead."

The Doctor stiffened. "That's nice. Good boy, Ricky." His voice was falsely cheerful, so I knew the comment had struck a nerve.

Rose didn't seem to notice, though. "If you know them, why don't you go and help?"

"They wouldn't recognise me. I've changed a lot since the old days." The Doctor moved away from the screen to the other side of the console. "Besides, the world's on a knife edge. There's aliens out there, and fake aliens." He pointed to himself. "Wanna keep this alien out of the mix. I'm going undercover, and uh, better keep the TARDIS out of sight. Ricky! You've got a car. You can do some driving."

"Where to?" Mickey asked skeptically.

The Doctor led the way to the doors. "The roads are clearing. Let's go and have a look at that ship."

We stepped out of the box and into a bright spot light. Helicopter blades whirred overhead, punctuating the commands of a man shouting orders. We followed them and raised our hands above our heads, well, save for Mickey, who made a break for it.

Police cars and military trucks came roaring into view, cutting off the exits, lights blaring and sirens wailing. Soldiers with guns and big, angry dogs circled, cutting off Jackie as she strained forward, calling for Rose.

Despite the chaos, the Doctor only smiled. "Take me to your leader!"

. . .

We were put into a car and driven away.

"This is a bit posh," Rose commented from her seat between the Doctor and I. "If I knew it would be like this, getting arrested, I would've done it years ago."

"We're not being arrested, we're being escorted," the Doctor corrected.

"Where to?"

"Where do you think?" The Doctor was getting smug. "Downing Street."

"You're kidding!" Rose crowed.

"I'm not!" He laughed excitedly, almost cackling in his enthusiasm.

I watched in amusement as Rose joined in his excitement, even though I was a bit displaced and didn't share it.

"Oh, my God! I'm going to 10 Downing Street? How come?"

"I hate to say it but Mickey was right," the Doctor admitted. "Over the years I've visited this planet a lot of times, and I've been, uh, noticed."

"Now they need you."

"Like it said on the news, they're gathering experts in alien knowledge. And who's the biggest expert of the lot?" He grinned his smug little grin.

Rose played dumb. "Patrick Moore?"

The grin faded. "Apart from him."

They kept on like this the entire ride, leaving me a little left out. I didn't really mind, though. They knew each other. They were friends. Good friends, at that. I was the newbie. Oh well.

When the car pulled up, the place was crawling with reporters, a short metal barrier and a few police the only thing between us and them. Rose and I got out on the side farthest from them, but the Doctor wasn't as shy. He hopped right out with a big smile and a friendly wave before he jogged around the car to usher me and a starstruck Rose inside.

Inside was full of people, all important, I'd imagine, in one way or another. Amongst the dark suits and professional wear, our little group looked very out of place.

"Ladies and gentleman, can we convene? Quick as you can please." A man serving as a coordinator called for attention, waving an ID card on a lanyard in the air. "It's this way on the right, and can I remind you ID cards are to be worn at all times." He paced over to the Doctor to present him with the card he'd been waving around. "Here's your ID card." He gestured to me and Rose. "I'm sorry. Your companions don't have clearance."

"I don't go anywhere without her." The Doctor tried to pass the ID card back in protest. I noted rather bitterly that he was only referring to Rose. I bit back an emotion that I firmly told myself wasn't jealousy. It had no reason to be. So it couldn't.

"You're the Code Nine, not her. I'm sorry Doctor. It's, uh, Doctor, isn't it? They'll have to stay outside."

"She's staying with me."

"Look, even I don't have clearance to go in there," the man, whose ID read 'Ganesh, Indra' tried to placate. "I can't let her in and that's a fact."

"That's all right. You go," Rose urged.

A middle aged woman in a pale pink outfit sidled up. "Excuse me. Are you the Doctor?"

The Doctor ignored her, speaking to Rose instead. "Sure?"

Indra Ganesh plainly knew the newcomer, and was not happy. "Not now. We're busy. Can't you go home?" He snapped impatiently.

"I just need a word, in private!" The lady insisted.

The Doctor and Rose apparently had come to an agreement during Indra's and the woman's argument, because he walked away through the door without further complaint.

Indra seemed relieved. "I'm gonna have to leave you with security." He placed a guiding hand on my shoulder and began to nudge me in the direction.

"It's all right," the pink woman interrupted, "I'll look after them. Let me be of some use." Now that I was closer, I could see that she was very tense and her smile was very fake. "Walk with me." After a few steps. "Just keep walking. That's right."

Rose hanced a glance back behind us.

"Don't look round," the lady commanded shakily. She flashed her ID. "Harriet Jones. MP, Flydale North."

. . .

Harriet led us to an empty room before speaking again.

"This friend of yours, he's an expert, is that right?" Harriet's voice broke. "He knows about aliens?"

"Why?" I asked warily. "What do you know?"

Whatever was left of Harriet's willpower left her and she broke down into sobs. Rose and I exchanged an uncomfortable glance before trying to awkwardly comfort her.

. . .

After a few minutes, Harriet pulled herself together enough to recount her encounter of aliens in human skin-suits that were posing as important figureheads. She even led us into an important looking room to show us one of the skin suits.

"They turn the body into a suit, a disguise for the thing inside!" Harriet explained, still on the verge of tears.

"It's all right, we believe you," Rose tried to comfort. "Don't we?"

I was too busy poking at the skin suit to answer. Bile rose into the back of my throat, but I swallowed down the nausea. A corpse. I was touching a corpse. I poked it again. Why was I still touching it?

I pulled my hand away and started pacing around the table, looking for something, probably my own thoughts. Because why? Why go through the trouble? This wasn't an invasion. They wouldn't have put the world on alert if it was an invasion. High powered government people people in the world's eye. What could they do? What did anyone do in the world's eye? Media. Media and desperation. But what would that get them?

Rose started looking around too, but for something more physical.

"They must have some serious technology behind this." She felt around the room, scouring under the table and through a few drawers. "If we could find it, we could use it."

She didn't find what she was looking for, but she did find something even more unexpected than alien technology.

Rose opened a closet and a person fell out, causing her to cry out in shock.

"Oh, my God. Is that…" She gasped, kneeling down for a closer look. Harriet and I rushed to her side to examine the body.

"Shit," I hissed under my breath. "Who is he?"

"Harriet, for God's sake!" Indra's annoyed voice suddenly rang through the room. "This has gone beyond a joke. You cannot just wander…" He trailed off when he was what we were crowded around. "Oh, my God. That's the Prime Minister."

"Oh!" A sickeningly sweet, simpering voice made itself known.

We turned to see a rotund woman edge from the shadows of the hall and into the room, closing the doors behind her.

"Has someone been naughty?" She cooed again.

Harriet grabbed my arm fearfully. Then the lady's strange behavior made sense.

Fanfuckingtastic.

"But that's impossible," Indra went on, oblivious to the danger. "He left this afternoon. The Prime Minister left Downing Street. He was driven away!"

"And who told you that?" The alien in disguise slowly moved forward. I found myself moving away from Harriet and subconsciously reaching out to Indra, who was both the closest and the most clueless.

"You did, I gather," I quipped dryly, taking another step forward.

"Me!" The woman cooed again, taking off her purse and tossing it carelessly to the side.

I stood, frozen in a kind of sick fascination as she reached up to her forehead, where there was now a zipper that I could've sworn wasn't there before. When she unzipped it, the room was bathed in a dark blue-ish purple light. Electricity sparked and she laughed, her voice deepening and bubbling as she worked the skin off like a dress that was a bit too tight. Though it wasn't far from the truth, as the skin came off she seemed to expand, both upwards and sideways, revealing waxy green skin, long arms that ended in long, sharp claws, a head that resembled that of a giant grotesque baby doll. Her massive, black eyes blinked from the sides, as opposed to up and down.

I cursed myself as she stepped out of the skin. While she'd been doing her strip tease, we should've been running. But I was stupid, so when the alien straightened up, Indra was still within her reach.

When the alien let out a gurgling laugh and raised one of her massive clawed hands, I finally moved. I lunged forward and half shoved, half dragged Indra to the side. It half worked. Indra went sprawling, but I, on the other hand, was snatched up like a rag doll.

My feet left the ground and I was bodily slammed into the wall, roughly ten feet in the air.

I couldn't even scream. Two of the alien's fingers were wrapped around my throat. The third around my chest.

I was dying, and I hated how aware I was.

I could literally feel my windpipe compressing from the pressure of the alien hand and from my own body weight.

I could feel my ribs bending under the force of being crushed against the wall.

Bending.

Bending.

Like one of those flexible rulers you mess with in school.

'Hey look! Look how far I can bend it!'

Darkness ate at my vision in great, big splotches.

By the way.

It's a lie.

They don't bend forever.


	17. World War Three: Part One

_**I'm Glad you guys liked the last two chapters.**_

 _ **In this chapter POV switches a few times. I wanted to go ahead and establish the POV switch early on because there are a few places in future chapters that will need it .**_

 _ **Monet's POV will alway be in first person**_

 ** _Anybody else's POV will be in third person_**

 **Chapter Seventeen: World War Three; Part One**

Rose dashed out of the cabinet room with Harriet and Indra in tow, accompanied by a sick feeling in her stomach.

Monet, the nice girl of Rose's age; they would've been friends. Good friends, Rose thought. But now she was dead.

 _Or maybe not,_ Rose told herself desperately, _I didn't exactly get a chance to check._

But the way she had fallen from the aliens claws, limp and lifeless like a discarded doll, eyes half open and empty.

But she'd had to run. Rose knew that staying behind would've meant the rest of them would have suffered the same fate.

Rose choked down the strangled sob that threatened to escape from her. She focused on the task at hand; hiding from the same aliens that had brutally murdered… no, not murdered. She clung to the curtain in front of her.

 _Don't think about it._

"Out! With me!" The Doctor shouted, spraying the giant, green creatures with a fire extinguisher.

Rose yanked the curtain down over the creature's head and dashed to his side, Indra and Harriet rushing to join them.

The Doctor sprayed the extinguisher again before casting a quick glance at the people behind him.

"Hold on, we're missing one. Where's Monet?" He asked, eyes scanning Rose's face.

Rose's stomach did a flip. "She's dead."

The Doctor blanched. He stared at his young, blonde friend for a second in shock before returning his attention to the creatures, his face dark and stony.

* * *

I was on the ground again.

I didn't have the faintest memory of how I got there.

I just suddenly was.

The world flashed in a disorienting blur above my head.

Something was sparking bright blue.

Feet thundered past.

Breathing.

I should be doing that.

How do the lungs work, again?

I coughed and sucked in a great gulp of air, only to have it driven out again by a cry of pain. Something hurt, only I couldn't figure out what it was. All I knew was that it made breathing, a necessary function, extremely difficult.

I spent the next while, no idea how long, fading in and out of consciousness.

. . .

Then I woke with a start. Or I say 'woke', more like kind of regained consciousness while maintaining a healthy state of delirium.

I groaned and tried to roll onto my side. Bad idea.

The pain that I had been unable to previously locate suddenly had an identifiable source. Ribs. Not exactly a surprise.

I knew that I couldn't stay where I was, in pain or not. So instead of trying to roll onto my side, I propped myself up on my elbows and dragged myself backwards, coming to rest my back up against one of the chairs.

At least I was sitting up now. Better than laying down. Progress. Like sitting up in bed right after you wake up from a deep sleep; might not be all the way awake yet, but you're definitely not asleep. My new position allowed my head to clear a bit, even if it didn't help the sharp aches in my rib cage.

I tried to pull myself up on the chair, but in pain and still lacking balance, I failed miserably.

The attempt made the chair I had been leaning on, a rolly-chair, to spin away suddenly, causing me to fall back flat into the same position I had started in upon waking up.

The chair came to a stop a few yards away, its squeaking wheels sounding like mocking laughs.

"You mock my pain," I told it. Then I burst into painful little giggles.

Ah. Movie references. _The Princess Bride._ Mom and I could quote the whole thing, start to finish.

"Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something." No kidding.

* * *

The Doctor, Rose, Harriet, and Indra tore out of the room and back into the halls.

"We need to get to the Cabinet Rooms," the Doctor announced, turning a corner.

"The Emergency Protocols are in there," Harriet agreed. "They give instructions for aliens."

"Harriet Jones, I like you."

"I think I like you, too."

They ran through, unlocking doors and crossing rooms until reaching the right one. Upon entry, the Doctor snatched up a glass container of some form of alcoholic beverage and held his screwdriver up to it menacingly.

"One more move and my sonic device will triplicate the flammability of the alcohol. Woof! We all go up. So back off."

Rose was surprised when they complied. She watched in bewilderment as the giant green creatures took a few steps back.

"Right, the, question time. First of all, what have you done with my friend? The other young one, with the curls," the Doctor asked, his voice dangerously cheerful.

"What?" The female alien thrilled. "Oh, her. She's dead."

The Doctor's cheerful facade faded and his face darkened. But only for a moment, because his expression shifted to one of surprise when someone giggled from somewhere in the back of the room.

"Whoo-hoo-hoo, look who knows so much. It just so happens that your friend here is only MOSTLY dead," the familiar voice announced. "There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive."

The Doctor laughed in relief while Rose grinned and turned around to look for the source. She couldn't see her, but figured it was safe to assume that Monet was somewhere behind the table.

"All right. Slightly alive. I'll take it," the Doctor laughed. "Question two. Who exactly are the Slitheen?"

* * *

I had worked my way back up into a sitting position when I heard people enter the room. Not knowing who it was, I had elected to stay silent. When I heard familiar voices and an open opportunity to continue quoting movies at inappropriate times, I decided to make myself known.

"Who are you, if not human?" I heard one of the Slitheen ask from the other side of the table.

"Who's not human?" Harriet was still alive.

"He's not human." So was Rose.

Indra came from around the table and knelt down beside me.

"All right, then?" He asked, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"More or less."

"You saved me," Indra murmured softly. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"You've got a spaceship hidden in the North Sea," the Doctor continued. "It's transmitting a signal. You've murdered your way to the top of government. What for? Invasion?"

"Why would we invade this godforsaken rock?" One of the male Slitheens growled.

"Then something's brought the Slitheen race here. What is it?"

"The Slitheen race?" The other male growled. "Slitheen is our surname! Jocrassa Fel Fotch Pasameer-Day Slitheen at your service."

"Great," I grumbled. "Leave us a business card and get the fuck out."

"So you're family?" The Doctor pressed.

"A family business."

"Saving people, hunting things…" I wish I could say that being in pain was making me snarkier than usual.

"Then you're out to make a profit," the Doctor deduced. "How can you do that on a godforsaken rock?"

The aliens went quiet for a moment.

"Uh, excuse me," one of them broke the silence. "Your device will do what? Triplicate the flammability?"

I sighed wearily.

"Is that what I said?" The Doctor chuckled nervously.

"You're making it up."

"Oh, well. Nice try. Harriet, have a drink. I think you're gonna need it."

"You pass it to the left first."

"Sorry."

"Thanks".

"Now we can end this hunt with a slaughter." Heavy footsteps sounded a little closer.

Indra tightened his grip on my shoulder and I felt a twinge of fear. Slightly alive or all dead, I wasn't going to be able to do much in the way of running for a bit.

"Don't you think we should run?" Rose hissed.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that. The Doctor was still holding his ground.

"Fascinating history, Downing Street," the Timelord mused. "Two thousand years ago, this was marshland. 1730, it was occupied by a Mr. Chicken. He was a nice man. 1796, this was the Cabinet Room. If the Cabinet's in session and in danger, these are about the four most safest walls in the whole of Great Britain. End of lesson."

I heard a click followed by a massive grating and a series of metallic slams. The window that I could see out of was covered by large steel plates that came sliding out of the walls.

"Installed in 1991. Three inches of steel lining every single wall," the Doctor explained. "They'll never get in."

"And how do we get out?" Rose asked.

A moment of silence.

"Ah."

I sighed again and tried to get my legs under me again with a pained gasp. I was less dizzy now, so it seemed worth a go; I was tired of being on the floor.

"No, no, no. Wait a second, you're hurt," Indra insisted, holding me back.

I glared at him but stopped and sat back again.

The Doctor came hurrying around. He nudged Indra out of the way and knelt before me.

"How alive is slightly alive?" The Timelord asked, his brow creased in concen. "What hurts?" He scanned me with the sonic.

"Everything," I grunted, blinking at the annoying blue light. It was worsening my headache.

The Doctor held up his screwdriver to examine it. "I'll bet. Multiple fractured ribs and extensive bruising, possible concussion." He put the sonic down. "Can you move?"

"Yes. Though I'm not sure I want to," I grumbled.

The Doctor smiled. I think it was the first time this face had actually smiled _AT_ me.

"I expect so. You've been mostly-dead all day," he said, continuing the theme with another quote from the same movie.

"Only on the inside," I admitted solemnly.

The Doctor grabbed my hand and elbow so as to pull me to my feet. He then pulled out a chair and I sat down, gritting my teeth in an effort not to cry out.

"Try not to worry," the Doctor said sympathetically, noticing my distress. "I have equipment on the TARDIS that can mend broken bones. We can get you fixed up, just as soon as we get back."

" _If_ we get back," I pointed out.

The Doctor's face softened but his reply was interrupted by a flurry of blonde hair blocking my view of him. Rose had come over to wrap her arms around my neck.

"I thought you were dead," Rose cried into my ear.

I forced myself not to wince and smiled instead. "Nah, I'm tougher than I look."

The Doctor handed me a glass with dark liquid in it. I sniffed it and discovered that it was the alcohol that he'd threatened the Slitheen with earlier.

"Why?" I inquired, slightly skeptical.

The Doctor was already pacing around to the slain former Prime Minister, whom he lifted slightly and began to drag into a cupboard.

"We're gonna be here a while," he explained. "Something to numb the pain a little until we can get you something proper."

"Thanks," I said, grudgingly taking a swallow and wincing at the taste.

. . .

The Doctor finished moving the body and clapped his hands in a businesslike manner. "Right, what have we got? Any terminals, anything?"

"Nope, this place is antique." Rose had been rushing around the room, searching through drawers. "What I don't get is, when they killed the Prime Minister, why didn't they use him as a disguise?"

The Doctor scanned a window. "He's too slim. They're big old beasts. They need to fit inside big humans."

"But the Slitheen are about eight feet. How do they squeeze inside?"

The Doctor walked over to another window. "That's the device they have around their necks, compression field, literally shrinks them down a bit. That's why there's all that gas. It's a big exchange."

"Wish I had a compression field. I could fit a size smaller," Rose joked.

"Same," I chimed in.

"Excuse me, people are dead!" Harriet complained. "This is not the time for making jokes."

"Sorry," Rose apologized, not really sounding sorry at all. "You get used to this stuff when you're friends with him."

"Well, that's a strange friendship," Harriet commented. She wasn't wrong, either.

The Doctor walked around the table behind her. "Harriet Jones. I've heard that name before. Harriet 're not famous for anything, are you?"

Indra snorted. I looked around to see that he was still hovering my my shoulder.

"Oh!" Harriet scoffed. "Hardly!"

The Doctor frowned thoughtfully. "Rings a bell. Harriet Jones…"

"Lifelong backbencher, I'm afraid," Harriet explained, looking a bit glum, "and a fat lot of use I'm being now." She looked up from where she had been going through the contents of a red briefcase. "The Protocols are redundant. They list the people who could help and they're all dead downstairs."

"Hasn't it got, like, defence codes and things?" Rose hopped forward animatedly. "Couldn't we just launch a nuclear bomb at them?"

Harriet's eyes widened. "You're a very violet young woman."

"I'm serious, we could!"

"Well, there's nothing like that in here. Nuclear strikes do need a release code, yes, but it's kept secret by the United Nations."

"Say that again," the Doctor demanded.

"What, about the codes?"

"Anything, all of it."

"Um, well, the British Isles can't gain access to atomic weapons without a special resolution from the UN."

"Like that's ever stopped them!" Rose scoffed.

"Exactly," Harriet agreed, "given our past record. And I voted against that, thank you very much. The codes have been taken out of the government's hands and given to the UN." She turned to the Doctor. "Is it important?"

"Everything's important," the Doctor confirmed distractedly.

"If we only knew what the Slitheen wanted." Harriet continued. Then she sighed. "Listen to me, I'm saying Slitheen as if it's normal."

"What do they want though?" Rose asked.

The Doctor pushed himself away from the table and started pacing again. "Well, they're just one family, so it's not an invasion. They don't want Slitheen World. They're out to make money. That means they want to use something, something here on Earth, some kind of asset."

"Like what?" Harriet pressed. "Gold? Oil? Water?"

The Doctor smiled encouragingly. "You're very good at this."

Flattered, Harriet beamed back. "Thank you."

"Harriet Jones, why do I know that name?" The Doctor asked himself, slightly annoyed at being unable to recall the information.

The conversation was cut off by a phone beeping.

"Oh, that's me," Rose announced, digging into her pocket for the object.

"But we're sealed off," Harriet protested. "How did you get a signal?"

"He zapped it. Super phone."

"Then we can phone for help," Harriet said excitedly. "You must have contacts!"

"Dead downstairs yeah." The Doctor turned to me. "Monet, I upgrade your phone too. An IPhone. What model is it?"

"6S."

"It has computer functions, do you have it?"

I rooted it out of my pocket and unlocked it. "Yeah. But it's at one percent." I closed it again. "And I don't have a charger."

He sighed and turned to Rose. "Well, who is it?"

"It's Mickey," Rose answered, peering at the screen.

The Doctor made a disgusted noise. "Oh, tell you stupid boyfriend we're busy."

"Yeah, he's not so stupid after all." Rose extended the phone so the Doctor could see the picture on the screen.

Rose called him back and spent several minutes listening to Mickey ramble about his close encounter. Evidently Jackie was involved too. They were being chased by a Slitheen.

The Doctor got impatient and snatched the phone away. "Is that Ricky? Don't talk. Just shut up and go to your computer." He listened for a half second. "Mickey the idiot, I might just choke before I finish this sentence, but I need you."

I chuffed at the Doctor's sour expression. He kept the same face while talking Mickey through hacking into the UNIT website. Password 'BUFFALO'. What genius came up with that? The Doctor had hooked Rose's phone up to a small speaker he had found in the closet, so we could all hear what was being said.

"What's that website?" Jackie's fuzzy voice came through the speaker.

"All the secret information known to mankind," Mickey explained, sounding like a person that was in possession of a tinfoil hat. "See, they've know about aliens for years. They just kept us in the dark."

"Mickey, you were born in the dark," the Doctor snapped. He ignored Rose's reprimand and started pacing again. "Big Ben. Why did the Slitheen go and hit Big Ben?"

"You said to gather the experts," Harriet offered, standing a well, "to kill them."

"That lot would've gathered for a weather balloon. You don't need to crash land it in the middle of London."

"The Slitheen are hiding, but then they put the entire planet on red alert. What did they do that for?"

"It's obvious isn't it?" I growled, my chest getting more painful by the minute as the bruises formed. They all turned in surprise. I rolled my eyes. "Media. Fear. Same reason terrorists attack. To make people scared. Because when people are scared, they're trigger happy, more willing to do things they wouldn't do. Whatever they want, it's something they need humanity to be reckless about in order to get it."

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Jackie, who snarled, "Oh, listen to her!"

"But, she's got a point," the Doctor admitted. "A fantastic one. Well done." He smiled again and I found myself returning it.

"Well, I've got a question, if you don't mind," Jackie's voice sliced through again. "Since that man walked into our lives, I've been attacked in the streets, I've hd creatures from the pits of hell in my own living room, and my daughter disappear off the face of the Earth."

"I told you what happened," Rose groaned.

"I'm talking to him! Cause I've seen this life of yours, Doctor, and maybe you get off on it…"

I turned my face from the speaker to the Doctor. The Timelord was tense, his shoulders hunched as he fidgeted uncomfortably.

"... and maybe you think it's all clever and smart, but you tell me, just answer me this, is my daughter safe?"

"I'm fine," Rose tried to reassure. But the Doctor was still staring at the table, unable to give an answer.


	18. World War Three: Part Two

_**Alright, so this chapter is mostly exposition, so it's kind of boring. It was initially going to be merged with the next chapter, but I didn't want to tack on a more interesting part with the boring part. So the next chapter should be in pretty quickly. Glad you guys are enjoying it. Don't forget to comment.**_

 **Chapter Eighteen: World War Three; Part Two**

The Doctor was saved from having to provide an impossible answer by Mickey, whose voice suddenly cut across Jackie's to say, "We're in."

The Doctor snapped out of his thoughts and flung himself back into giving directions. "Now, then. On the left, at the top, there's a tab, an icon, little concentric circles, click on that."

After a seconds silence, a strange, rhythmic series of beeps came through the speaker.

"What is it?" Mickey asked.

"The Slitheen have got a spaceship in the North Sea and it's transmitting that signal," the doctor explained quickly. "Now, hush, let me work out what it's saying."

We all listened intently for a few moments, the only interruption being Jackie, whose voice muddled through the static incoherently.

"It's some sort of message," the Doctor murmured after a moment.

"What's it say?" Rose inquired in the same hushed tone.

"Don't know, it's on a loop, keeps repeating." The Timelord was interrupted by a harsh buzzing erupting through the speaker. "Hush!"

"That's not me," Mickey huffed. Then fainter, "Go and see who that is."

"It's beaming out into space. Who's it for?" The Doctor asked, mostly himself.

Before we could ponder this further, Jackie's voice came the the speaker again, indistinct but plainly terrified.

"They've found us!" Mickey informed, sounding like he was keeping it together slightly better than Jackie, though he still sounded frightened.

"Mickey, I need that signal," the Doctor insisted.

"Never mind the signal," Rose snapped. "Get out! Mum, just get out! Get out!"

"We can't, it's by the front door," Mickey's voice came through more muddled, indicating he was on the move. Oh, my God. It's unmasking. It's gonna kill us."

"There has got to be some way of stopping them!" Harriet cried. "You're supposed to be the expert. Think of something!"

"I'm trying!" The Doctor rebuked, visually distraught.

A low growling echoed through the speaker, followed by Mickey saying, "I'll take it on, Jackie. You just run. Don't look back, just run."

"Doctor, what species?" Indra prompted, reminding me that he was still there. He had been so quiet that I had nearly forgotten he was in the room. "Surely every species has a weakness."

"That's my mother," Rose said to the Doctor, suppressing her panic.

The Doctor stopped looking at the speaker helplessly and snapped back to attention. "Right. If we're gonna find their weakness, we need to find out where they're from, which planet. So judging by their basic shape, that narrows it down to 5,000 planets within travelling distance."

I bit back a despairing groan for the sake of my ribs. 5,000? Craptastic.

"What else do we know about them?" The Doctor continued. "Information!"

"They're green," Rose offered.

"Yep, narrows it down."

"Vertical eye slits," I offered.

"Narrows it down."

"Good sense of smell," Rose provided.

"They can smell adrenalin."

"Narrows it down."

"The pig technology."

"Narrows it down."

"The pig technology," Harriet stepped in.

"Narrows it down."

"Large families," Indra offered.

"Narrows it down."

"Spaceship in the Thames. You said 'slipstream engine.'"

"Narrows it down."

"They hunt like it's a ritual."

"Narrows it down."

'Wait a minute," Harriet jumped in again. "Did you notice, when the fart, if you'll pardon the word, it doesn't just smell like a fart, if you'll pardon the word. It's something else. What is it? It's more like, um…"

"Bad breath," Rose finished.

"Calcium decay!" The Doctor spouted, grinning eagerly. "Now that narrows it down!" The bounded around the table energetically.

"We're getting there, mum!" Rose shouted to the speaker.

"Too late!" Mickey cried back.

"Calcium phosphate. Organic calcium. Living calcium." The Doctor circled around to the other end of the table distractedly. "Creatures made out of living calcium. What else? What else? Hyphenated surname! Yes! That narrows it down to one planet! Raxacoricofallapatorius!" He shouted jubilantly.

"Oh, yeah, great, we can write 'em a letter!" Mickey snapped sarcastically.

"Get into the kitchen!" The Doctor ordered. "Calcium weakened by the compression field. Acetic acid! Vinegar!"

"Just like Hannibal!" Harriet cried.

"Just like Hannibal!" The Doctor confirmed. "Mickey, have you got any vinegar?"

"How should I know?" Mickey strained from the other end of the line.

"It's your kitchen!"

"Cupboard by the sink, middle shelf!" Rose instructed.

"Oh, come on, give it here." Jackie's exasperated voice bled through. "What do you need?"

"Anything with vinegar!"

The was a clutter of ceramics and tupperware. "Gherkins! Yeah, pickled onions! Pickled eggs!"

"You kiss this man?" The Doctor asked Rose incredulously, causing Rose to roll her eyes.

There was a shrieking and hissing, but it was abruptly cut off. After a few seconds of tense silence, there was the squishy, farting noise of something blowing apart.

We all let out a collective sigh of relief. I rubbed at my face, feeling tense and frayed. Today had been a physical and emotional rollercoaster, and the effects were just starting to catch up with me.

"Hannibal?" Rose repeated.

"Hannibal crossed the Alps by dissolving boulders with vinegar," Harriet explained.

"Oh," Rose sighed, picking up her glass of drink. "Well, there you go then."

We all lifted our glasses in a toast and took a drink. My glass was much lower than everyone else's, and I could feel the difference. But I was drinking for more reasons than to soothe my nerves, or, well, at least not the same nerves people are referring to when they use the phrase. I was a long way from drunk, but I wasn't exactly sober, either.

I hid my smile behind the glass as I watched the Doctor take a sip despite being clearly repulsed by the liquid's taste. He winced and scowled at the dark fluid distastefully before returning the glass back to its original position on the table.

. . .

The Slitheen were on the move again, this time on the news. Mickey held the phone next to his tv so we could hear the Slitheen that was pretending to be the Prime Minister address the press. And it wasn't sounding good.

"These 'visitors' do not come in peace," the Slitheen announced. "Our inspectors have searched the sky above our heads. And they have found massive weapons of destruction capable of being deployed within 45 seconds."

"What?" The Doctor muttered.

"Our technicians can baffle the alien probes, but not for long. We are facing extinction unless we strike first! The United Kingdom stands directly beneath the belly of the mothership. I beg of the United Nations. Pass an emergency resolution. Give us the access codes. A nuclear strike at the heart of the beast is our only chance of survival, because, from this moment on, it is my solemn duty to inform you planet Earth is at war."

"Seriously? They're just gonna give them nuclear codes based on one man's say so?" I griped. "Almost every other nation has sensors and technicians and fancy-smancy scientists capable of detecting a big ass spaceship hovering over Earth. But are they going to check? No. Are they going to wonder why the Prime Minister is addressing them over the news instead of on secure channels? No. God, how have we evolved?" I rubbed my face in exasperation again.

"He's just making it up. There's no weapons up there," the Doctor growled. "There's no threat. He just invented it."

"No shit, Sherlock," I muttered under my breath.

"Do you think they'll believe him?" Harriet asked.

"Well, he did last time," Rose added.

"That's why the Slitheen went for spectacle. They want the whole world panicking." The Doctor strode towards the door as he spoke. "Cause you lot, you get scared, you lash out."

"They release the defence codes…" Rose continued as she and Harriet followed him to the door.

"And the Slitheen go nuclear," the Doctor finished. He lifted up the cover of the button that controlled the steel door. He pressed it and the metal slid away to expose a handful of Slitheen conversing outside.

"You get the codes, release the missiles," the Doctor addressed the aliens. I strained to peer through the thin gap between Rose and Harriet. "But not into space because there's nothing there. You attack every other country on Earth, they retaliate, fight back."

The blonde woman from earlier, the woman-suited alien that attacked me, pushed her way through the others.

"World War Three. Whole planet gets nuked," the Doctor finished.

"And we sit through it, safe in our spaceship waiting in the Thames," the blonde Slitheen crooned. "Not crashed, just parked. Barely two minutes away."

"But you'll destroy the planet. This beautiful place. What for?" Harriet asked, still trying to wrap her mind around the thought process of a group of genocidal sociopaths.

"Profit," the Doctor answered. "That's what the signal is, beaming into space. An advert."

"Sale of the century," the Slitheen crowed. "We reduce the Earth into molten slag, then sell it. Piece by piece. Radioactive chunks capable of powering every cut-price starliner and budget cargo ship. There's a recession out there, Doctor. People are buying cheap. This rock becomes raw fuel."

"At the cost of five billion lives," the Doctor growled.

"Hmm! Bargain," the Slitheen snorted. "What's the value of a human life?" Her eyes flickered beyond the Doctor to me, sitting awkwardly and clearly injured, and smirked.

I lifted my arm to nonchalantly give her the one fingered salute.

The Doctor ignored the exchange.

"Then I give you a choice," he said, his voice low and threatening. "Leave this planet, or I'll stop you."

The Slitheen woman burst out into hysterical giggled while the three unsuited ones behind her did their own version of laughter.

"What you?" She asked after she had made her point. "Trapped in your box?"

"Yes. me." The calm, dangerous resolution with which the Doctor said those two words was enough to wipe the smirk of the Slitheen's chubby face. He didn't break eye contact with her as the metal doors slide to a close between them.

Although it probably had something to do with the amount of alcohol in my system, I had to admit, it was kind of hot.

. . .

We spent the next couple of hours sitting or pacing around, waiting for news or a stroke of genius. Jackie and Mickey had called a couple of times to relay what the news channels were saying.

"All right, Doctor," Jackie said. "I'm not saying I trust you, but there must be something you can do."

"If we could ferment the port, we could make acetic acid," Harriet suggested wearily, desite how obvious it was that she already knew that it wouldn't work.

"Mickey, any luck?" Rose asked.

"There's loads of emergency numbers. They're all on voicemail."

"Voicemail dooms us all," Harriet grumbled.

"If we could just get out of here," Rose groaned, starting to pace again.

I was watching the Doctor, who had been leaning up against the wall for a while now, his face dark and serious.

"There's a way out," he said softly, not looking up.

"What?"

"There's always been a way out."

"Then why don't we use it?" Rose pressed.

The Doctor uncrossed his arms and leaned over the spreaker to address Jackie. "Because I can't guarantee your daughter will be safe."

"Don't you dare!" Jackie snapped. "Whatever it is, don't you dare!"

"That's the thing. If I don't dare, everyone dies."

"Do it," Rose stepped forward.

"You don't even know what it is," the Doctor told her, eyes soft and sincere. "You'd just let me?"

"Yeah," Rose said, her voice small and tight.

"Please, Doctor, please!" Jackie begged. "She's my daughter, she's just a kid."

"Do you think I don't know that?" The Doctor retorted. "Cause this is my life, Jackie. It's not fun, it's not smart. It's standing up and making a decision because no one else will."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Rose asked, slightly more confident than she had been a second ago.

The Doctor glanced over at me questioningly.

I shrugged. "We're all gonna die anyway. Besides, I'm a six year old somewhere. So if I die then, me now is some kind of paradox, isn't it?"

"And it's not you decision, Doctor," Harriet stepped forward. "It's mine."

"And who the hell are you?" Jacke snarled.

"Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. The only elected representative in this room, chose by the people for the people. And on behalf of the people, I command you. Do it."

"Get it, girl," I chuckled, smiling.

A large, goofy grin spread across the Doctor's features. He had a nice smile.

"How to we get out?" Rose demanded, hopping up to sit on the table to watch as the Doctor pulled the red briefcase with the emergency protocols over to him.

"We don't. We stay here," he said firmly, pulling out a file. He instructed Mickey on navigating the UNIT website again, this time looking for ships and missiles through the Royal Navy.

"Here it is," Mickey announced, "Uh, HMS Taurean, Trafalgar Class Submarine, ten miles off the coast of Plymouth."

'Right, we need to select a missile," the Doctor ordered.

"We can't go nuclear," Mickey protested. "We don't have the defence codes."

"We don't need it. All we need is an ordinary missile. What's the first category?"

"Sub harpoon, UGM-84A."

"That's the one! Select! Are you ready for this?"

A moment of silence on Mickey's end, before the soft, "Yeah."

The Doctor stepped back from the table a bit. "Mickey the idiot, the world is in your hands. Fire."

We all froze and held our breath. Through the speaker we listened to the click of the mouse, followed by a steady beeping. There was a sudden pain in my chest that didn't have to do with the ribs. If I died here, my parents would never know what happened. I will have vanished off the streets of D.C. and never come back. They would look, of course, so would my grandparents, aunts, and cousins. So would Penny, Rhodes, and Mrs. Alani. But they would ever find me, never have closure. I would have died nearly twelve years before I went missing. I took a shaky breath to steady myself. I wasn't dead yet.

Harriet wasn't ready to die either. "How solid are these?" She asked, running to feel the metal plate covering one of the windows.

"Not solid enough," the Doctor answered grimly. "Built for short range attack. Nothing this big."

"It might hold up in one piece," Indra supplied hopefully. "Though I doubt the rest of the building will. We might get tossed around, but we could make it."

"All right, now I'm making the decision," Rose glanced hurriedly around the room. "I'm not gonna die. We're gonna ride this one out." She grabbed the door handle of one of the closets. "It's like what they say about earthquakes. "She yanked the door open and felt around the closet. "You can survive them by standing under a door frame. Now, this cupboard's small, so it's strong." She tapped the inside of the closet experimentally before grabbing at some of the stuff inside. "Come and help me! Come on!"

Harriet rushed over to help and within a minute they had almost everything out of the closet.

"It's on radar," Mickey announced. "Counter defence 556."

The Doctor raced over to the speaker. "Stop them intercepting it!"

"I'm doing it now!"

"Good boy."

"556 neutralized." Mickey's voice was cut off when the Doctor disconnected the phone from the speaker.

Indra helped me stand despite my complaints and assurances that I could still walk, and we followed the Doctor, Harriet, and Rose into the closet. We all crowded in together and sat cross-legged on the floor.

"It's like Mythbusters," I joked, taking Indra and Harriet's hands in my own. "Except with death."

"Well, nice knowing you all," Harriet chuckled as she took mine and the Doctor's hands. "Hannibal!"


	19. The Broken and the Mending

_**Next chapter, bit more interesting (to write at least) as promised.**_

 **Chapter Nineteen: The Broken and the Mending**

There was a moment of silence as we all held our breaths, followed by an ear shattering noise. The room shook and trembled with the impact, every molecule in the air vibrating with such intensity that I thought those within me would merge into them.

Then the room tipped. I lost hold of the hands I had been gripping as the floor suddenly became the ceiling, the wall, and then the floor again, only to repeat the cycle. At some point in the mix, I landed hard on my side, but thankfully didn't get a chance to think about it as the room continued to toss and heave.

With one last decisive thump, the room shuddered to a halt. For a few seconds, everything was quiet, even though the aftereffects of the explosion that were still echoing through my eardrums didn't make it seem that way.

The room was dark, but even out of what I could see, I couldn't see straight. The room had more or less landed back right-side up, even if it was at an angle. I was huddled against the far wall of the closet, at the lowest part of the incline, my left cheek against the floor, too dazed to move. I could hear everyone else groaning and starting to move about.

"Everyone alright?" Someone, the Doctor, I think, asked.

There was a muttered chorus of affirmatives. Except from me. Because that's when I realized that something was wrong.

Seriously wrong.

I was in pain. Much, much worse than it had been before. Something had moved. I could feel it shift around when I tried to move. Sharp. Stabbing. Aching. Throbbing. I couldn't breathe, let alone cry out or do anything to get someone's attention. All I could do was try to take shallow, gasping breaths against the floor. Tears streamed down my face, silent and unchecked.

People were talking, but I didn't care about what they were saying anymore. I was dimly aware of the door opening, allowing the bright early-morning sun to come streaming in, even though it was pale and faded by the time it made it into the closet. It hurt anyway. Too bright. It almost made the air I was trying to suck into my lungs seem even harsher than it already was.

For a moment, it seemed everyone had left me behind. But then there were footsteps again. A shadow blocked out the light from the door, followed by a hand on my arm. Indra was back. I had saved a life and earned a faithful lackey. It was like Rhodes all over again.

"Hey, are you alright?" Indra asked worriedly. I managed a strangled sob. "Can you sit up?"

I shook my head, but tried anyway. I managed to push myself onto all fours, despite Indra's protests. I kept my head low to the ground, between my elbows, fighting off the waves of dizziness. Shallow, quick breaths.

It was getting harder to breathe. It took me a second to realize that my breaths had gone all bubbly. Like congestion. All that mucus and grossness that accompanied a cold or a sinus infection, that drained from your head and dripped down into your lungs. Except I wasn't sick. Hadn't been in a long time.

My first instinct was to cough. A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. Coughing was bad. Bad enough to make me cry out. I pulled my hand away from my mouth, having had coughed into it. Despite the dim lighting, I could very clearly see the dark smear decorating it.

I knew that coughing up blood meant something. Only I didn't want to think about what. Thinking about it would only make it worse.

Indra saw it, too. "I'll go get help," he informed before pulling away and vanishing into the gray fog.

* * *

The Doctor and Rose stood watching Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North, careen towards the scattered press, waving her hands about as she proclaimed the good news.

"Thought I knew the name," the Doctor chuckled, grinning after the enthusiastic woman. "Harriet Jones. Future Prime Minister. Elected for three successive terms. The architect of Britain's Golden Age.

"Blimey," Rose laughed. "I'll place some bets."

The Doctor turned to reply, but his smile faded when he saw Indra emerging from the large, steel box that was sitting in the center of the debris.

"Doctor!" He called, waving a hand to attract the Timelord's attention. Not that it was necessary, as the Doctor had immediately started running over the second he had seen the serious look on the secretary's face.

The Doctor paused slightly when he reached Indra, long enough to listen to the man gasp, "She's hurt. Bad."

The Timelord pushed past him and into the lopsided room. He darted into the closet and knelt beside the strange woman, who was hunched over painfully on her hands and knees, wheezing and gasping; her long, loose curls screening her face. He placed a reassuring hand on her back and retrieved his screwdriver from his jacket.

"It's all right," the Doctor murmured to her. He checked the readings he was getting. "God, I'm sorry. I should have checked…" He should have checked on her before running off. He'd known that she was already injured _before_ being thrown around in an explosion. Stupid, stupid Doctor.

"What's wrong with her?" Rose's frightened voice came from somewhere over his shoulder.

"She's got a punctured lung," he responded before looking around for the secretary again. "We need to get her back to the TARDIS before it collapses. You…" he pointed at the secretary and then in the direction of outside. "Go get a car and a driver."

"Or an ambulance," the man retorted. "We need to get her to a hospital."

"I've got something better than a hospital," the Doctor snapped, rapidly losing patience. "Car. Now."

When the secretary was gone, the Doctor slipped his shoulder under one of Monet's arms and wrapped a hand around her back gingerly. He then proceeded to stand up slowly, pulling her up with him. He winced when she cried out in pain.

"I know. I'm sorry," he tried to soothe, "but you can't stay here. Rose, get her other side."

Rose obeyed swiftly and between them they managed to coax Monet out of the box and into the sunlight. She was a bit clumsy, but the Doctor couldn't help but admire her determination. She insisted on walking, despite his offer of carrying her and the fact she was obviously in agony. Sweat beaded on her pale skin and her soft, blue-grey eyes were dilated and unfocused. He suppressed a stab of anger. The Slitheen that had done this was surely dead, and the Doctor was almost glad of it.

* * *

Despite the fog I was in, I noticed when the Doctor and Rose put me in the backseat of the car. They slid in on either side of me and gave the driver instructions. I think Indra wanted to come too, but the Doctor told him to shove off.

I may not have been entirely aware of what was going on around me, but I was painfully aware of every bump and turn the car made. My breathing was becoming bubbly again, and I knew it was because my right lung was slowly filling with blood. I should cough it up. But I wasn't going to. Coughing sucked. Drowning in my own blood was preferable to coughing. And at any rate, I still had one working lung, didn't I?

Suddenly, I was in the TARDIS again, not really remembering how I had got there. The Doctor was the only one supporting me now, across the console room and down a corridor. It was only a few steps to the medical bay, making wonder if the TARDIS had moved it closer for convenience. Probably, as I didn't remember this room being here, at all.

The Doctor guided me to a table and leaned me against it while he bobbed briefly out of my line of sight.

"For the pain," he informed before holding what looked like a full-on Star Trek hypospray to my neck.

There was a soft expulsion of air from the hypospray and a sharp pinch, but I began to feel the effects almost as soon as he pulled it away. A soothing, numb sensation spread from that point, allowing my head to clear a bit and marginally decreasing the pain throughout my torso.

I let out a soft sigh of relief, muttering a heartfelt, "Thanks."

The Doctor patted the table I was leaning on. "Come on, up."

The table was long and low with ridges on the sides and a thin, crescent shaped scanner-thing attached to one end.. I clambered up on it and laid back with my head closest to the scanner. The Doctor pushed a few buttons on the side panel, causing the machine to come alive.

I was briefly bathed in a soft blue light, originating from the table. I glanced over at the Doctor to see that he was frowning at a panel, which was displaying a blue diagram with bright red accents. Oh. I was the diagram, and the red places were where there were things wrong with me. There was a lot of red.

"Stay still," the alien chastised. "I have to program this thing correctly. It isn't easy when you move."

I straightened my head so I was looking at the ceiling and closed my eyes. Then I smirked.

I put on my best stereotypical Southern Belle accent and simpered. "Oh, doctor, tell me, will I ever walk again?"

He sighed and I could all but feel him roll his eyes.

"Four broken ribs, punctured lung, deep-tissue bruising, and a moderate concussion." I heard him press a button and pull up a chair. The machine started humming like a clunky old printer. I opened my eyes to see the crescent part of the machine emit a screen of bright blue light, like, well, a scanner. The crescent moved down the table on the ridges.

My eyes snapped shut as the scanner-thing reached my forehead and began slowly moving down my body, apparently fixing things as it went along. The bright blue shone through my eyelids for a few seconds and moved on. I gave it a few more seconds to get down my face before opening them again.

When the light had passed over my chin I chanced a look at the Doctor. He was sitting quietly, watching me with his chin in his hands and an unreadable expression.

"What happened to Rose?" I asked mildly.

"Went up to see her mum," he answered gruffly.

"And we all got out all right?" I hadn't been able to see the others after the explosion.

"Yeah. Well, all except you, of course."

I grunted in surprise as I felt one of my ribs wiggle before snapping back into place. It didn't hurt, thanks to whatever pain stuff the Doctor had given me, but I could still feel it, and it felt weird. I closed my eyes again and waited as my insides rearranged themselves.

After a minute or two of silence the Doctor spoke.

"I _am_ sorry… about earlier," he said gently, catching me by surprise.

"Earlier?" I asked, not opening my eyes.

"After the pig. I shouldn't have shouted."

I turned my head to see him staring at me, hands folded in his lap, his usually icy blue eyes wide and earnest.

"Don't sweat it," I said kindly, meeting his gaze.

"I don't know what got into me," he added ruefully.

"I do," I told him, gently but firmly. "And it's fine. So just forget about it, okay?"

The Doctor smiled sweetly and nodded, relief written all over his face. We sat in silence for a while longer, listening to the machine hum and buzz as it worked its way down my torso. After a bit, he spoke up again.

"I never asked," he started, staring at his hands, "you said you were eighteen… so I assume you've got parents?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, "Suzanne and Clay."

"And it was... English?"

"Yep."

"Do you live in Washington, D.C?"

"No, but a little ways outside of it. My mom and dad work at the museums… art and natural history."

The Doctor gave a grunt of interest. I thought he was going to ask more, but the machine had reached my feet and gave off a screeching microwave-like beep of completion. The Doctor stood and went back to the panel. I was bathed in the soft blue light again and watched as the Timelord examined the diagram once more.

"You'll still have some bruising, but the worst of it's gone. So is your concussion. You should be fine, but try to take it easy for the next few days."

I sat up and gave a mock salute. "Aye aye, captain."

A flicker of a smile crossed his face. "Go on, then. Get some rest. I assume you've got a room here, somewhere."

"I also assume," I pondered a moment before I aimed myself at the door. I paused in the doorway and turned back to look at him. "And Doctor… thanks."

"Anytime." His flicker of a smile evolved into one of his big, goofy ones, and I returned it, relishing the flicker of warmth it sparked in my chest.


	20. Turtles

_**So, it took me longer than I wanted to get this chapter up, and I wanted to make this part of the story all just in one chapter... but unfortunately I like shorter chapters and it doesn't help that I haven't been able to update in a while due to midterms... just thought I should go ahead and update with what I had and hope that I'll finish the butt half of it within the next day or so. Also doesn't hep that I've had a new plot bunny for another fic pop up... so I'l be working on that one off and on along with this one... *exhausted groan***_

 **Chapter Twenty: Turtles**

It wasn't difficult to find my room again, as it was more or less located where it had been the last time I'd stayed on board. The interior was basically the same, except the coffee table in front of the couch was wooden, instead of a glass top. The other significant difference was that while the apartment had looked lived in the last time I was here, this time it looked fresh and untouched. Which made sense, seeing as the last time I had been here hadn't happened yet for the TARDIS. In fact, to her and the Doctor, this was probably the first time I would use it. The Doctor only met me once before this, right? I hadn't exactly gotten the impression that future me had been welcome on the TARDIS, so the chances of her staying here before me were not very high.

I walked around the table to mess with the tv and nearly tripped over the bag. It was my bag, the one that I had been carrying when the Doctor had picked me up from D.C; I had almost forgotten about it, having had laid it to the side before stepping out again in London. How had it made its way in here? I'd left it in the console room.

I set the messenger style bag down on the coffee table and started to sift through it. Maybe the TARDIS moved it while we were away, like how it had moved Donna's luggage after the stuff with the Adipose. My laptop, charger, phone charger, sketchbook, and purse were the main contents. I laid the objects out on the table and dug through the bottom of the bag to retrieve the remaining pencils, pens, and coins that were left at the bottom.

My hand came into contact with something rubbery and I pulled out a small green turtle. I smiled at the object and pulled apart the two halves to examine the metal rectangle that protruded from the object's tail end. My flashdrive. I had forgotten about it. Usually if I needed to transfer documents, I used Google Drive. But it was still cute.

After joining the two halves back together to remake the full turtle, I dug out some clothes from the drawers in the bedroom and took a shower. Really I just wanted to sleep, but I felt too gross and sweaty to be comfortable curling up in the clean sheets.

"What the hell…?" I muttered as I undressed.

Huge dark reddish-blue bruises covered by chest and neck, spreading and molding together to form a single giant sash that wrapped from around the ribs on my right side, up between my breasts to curl around my neck at the left collarbone. I could even tell which of my ribs had been broken, the bruises already being the tell-tale dark purple and sprinkled with blood spots.

I winced at the sight. It was really going to hurt later. It would be hurting now, but the painkillers the Doctor had given me were still in my system.

I stepped into the shower with a sigh. Might as well hurry and get to sleep as fast as I could before the bruises proved to be too uncomfortable. Not that it would've made a difference; by now I was dead on my feet and nodding off standing. The warm water didn't help, just made me even more warm and drowsy.

Thankfully, I did make it to bed, and my last thoughts before losing consciousness was about what nickname I should give this Doctor so I could identify him from the others. Bowtie… Converse… and…?

. . .

When I woke, I did so slowly. I spent the first few groggy minutes of consciousness gazing around blearily, not entirely sure where I was.

I groaned and tried to sit up, which proved to be difficult due to the combination of half-awake-lack-of-balance and overall soreness. The painkillers had worn off, leaving the muscles anywhere near the afflicted area to the full aching might of the bruises. Stomach muscles included. Sit ups sucked. Even the 'trying to get out of bed' ones.

I gave up and flopped back down, half tempted to just go back to sleep. I almost did, but I was hungry, thirsty, and had to pee. I licked at my parched lips and tried to ignore my growling stomach, but it was no use. Instead of sitting up, I rolled to the edge of the bed and awkwardly lowered my legs to the floor so I could use my own body weight to slide into a standing position. I almost fell, but close enough.

After a groggy, stumbling trip to the bathroom I peered at myself in the mirror. I looked terrible. There were dark circles under my eyes and my hair was a tangly, matted mess… that's what I got for not putting it up after showering. I turned on the sink and caught some of the cold water in my hands. I took a few sips from my cupped hands and splashed the rest on my face.

There wasn't any food in my in-TARDIS apartment yet, so I would have to go to the kitchen. Clothes were required for that though, so I went to my closet, hoping that it didn't require filling as well.

Thankfully, it did have clothes in it, though the clothes were more random than last time, consisting of anything between leather pants, t-shirts, tube tops, and full length dresses… almost as if the TARDIS hadn't known what to fill it with, so had just gone with a little bit of everything.

I smiled to myself and patted the wall fondly, receiving a mental hum in return.

I wasn't feeling my usual button-up today, so I went with a green sweater; turtleneck, so as to fully cover the bruises. I paired the shirt with dark grey jeggings and a pair of stylized combat boots that came halfway up my calves. I wasn't feeling makeup either, not to mention that there was no helping my hair until I washed it again.

I was about to walk out the door when the turtle flash drive caught my eye again. It was a stupid thing to be curious about while I was on board a bigger-on-the-inside spaceship, but it was bugging me that I didn't know what was on it. I sighed inwardly before backtracking to scoop it and my laptop up. I could look at it while I was eating. I grabbed by phone charger as an afterthought; phones are useful… unless they're dead.

. . .

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and some peanut butter toast, absently detangling my hair with one hand while I browsed through the turtle's files with the other.

"Ah… finally up," a slightly surprised but friendly voice broke through the drowsy atmosphere. I didn't have to look up to know it was the Doctor. "You look terrible."

"Nice to see you, too," I returned dryly, still not taking my eyes away from the computer.

The Doctor walked around to the coffee pot to help himself to some of the coffee I had made. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him put an ungodly amount of sugar in it and stir it before taking a sip.

"Feeling any better?" He asked, leaning against the table rather than sitting down.

"Bit sore," I admitted as I clicked on a file labeled 'asdfghjkldhyqrgbx'.

"That's expected," he mused. "You slept for ages."

"How long's that?"

"About thirteen hours," he answered, taking another swig of coffee and wincing when it burned his tongue. "I don't know how you humans can stand sleeping half your lives away. Rose even had time to say goodbye to her mum and pack. I think she's asleep now, too."

I snorted. "I don't know about half. I've done way too many all-nighters for it to be half."

"I'm sure you make up for it sometime." He paused and wrinkled his brow, trying to peer around to see my computer screen. "What're you up to?"

"I found my old flash drive in the bottom of my bag. Decided to see what was on it."

"Ah," he said, leaning back again. "Anythin' interesting?"

"Nah. Bunch of cringy seventh grade essays and a few powerpoints."

The Doctor leaned over again and plucked up the front half of the rubber turtle, the back half being plugged into the computer. He stared at it quizzically for a few seconds.

"Your flash drive's a turtle?" He asked finally, sounding skeptical.

"What's wrong with my turtle?" I returned indignantly.

He chuckled softly and placed it back on the table. "Nothing, I suppose. Just a bit weird."

"Don't make fun of my turtle," I protested from around a bite of toast. "He got me through the middle school years."

"He?" The Doctor inquired, looking amused. "Has he got a name?"

"Of course he has a name! He's called Norbert."

Now the Doctor did laugh. "Norbert? Where'd you get that from?"

"I used to have a real turtle named Norbert… who was, of course, named after…"

"Let me guess," he interrupted, "the dragon from Harry Potter?"

"The best Norbert I ever knew," I confirmed solemnly. "Even though he was only six inches long, that noble little turtle had the heart of a Norwegian Ridgeback. Worthy of having a flash drive named in his honor."

The Doctor had been taking another drink of coffee when I said that. He snorted mid sip and choked, causing him to cough and me to laugh.

"What are you two on about?" Rose's voice drifted over from the door. The girl definitely looked like she had just woken up, bleary eyed and a bit disheveled.

"He's making fun of my turtle," I answered, pretending to look dejected while the Doctor struggled to regain his composure.

"Mental, you two are," Rose commented. "You gonna finish that?"

I held the plate with the remaining piece of peanut butter toast on it out to the blonde and she took it gratefully.

The Doctor tipped his coffee cup back and drained it. He then clapped it down on the table decisively. "Are we gonna just sit around all day chin waggin', or do you lot wanna go somewhere?"

"Can I at least finish my toast first?" Rose whined.

The Doctor was already bounding out into the corridor. "Eat it on the way."

I closed my laptop quickly and disconnected the flash drive. I pocketed the small turtle but left the computer where it was. I could always come back and get it later.

. . .

By the time Rose and I made it to the console room, the Doctor was already fidgeting around the controls. He looked up from where he was frantically spinning a small wheel that was poking out from between a lever and a dial.

"Right then, where to? Any suggestions?"

Rose mumbled something that indicated indifference around her full mouth.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

I chewed my bottom lip thoughtfully. "What about a different planet? I haven't been to another planet yet."

The Doctor beamed at the suggestion and began dashing around the console, pulling levers while Rose and I hung onto the railing for dear life.

. . .

The Doctor exited the console room first. I attempted to peer over his shoulder at the leafy green surroundings as he paused in the doorway to gaze around cautiously.

"Where are we?" Rose's voice demanded right beside my ear. I forced myself not to wince.

The Doctor sprang out of the doorway and spun around with a huge grin, evidently over whatever had been causing him to hesitate.

"Yacorniopia!" The Timelord beamed as Rose and I followed. "Fifth planet of the Ranyacanosian system. 'Bout half a galaxy away from Earth." He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "And roughly 600 years into your future."

I paced out and around him to stare around in wonder.

The TARDIS has landed just inside a small grassy clearing that was surrounded by dense forest. Everything was green. Very, extremely, unnaturally green. Greener than the healthiest forests and jungles on Earth. Despite green being the dominant color, the leaves and vines seemed to radiate teal light and glitter in the sun.

I looked up at the gap between the too-green-sparkling-kinda-blue trees to see that the sky consisted of shades of pink, ranging from Pepto-Bismol to cotton candy.

"Ooh," I heard Rose sigh. " 's beautiful."

I turned back to her and the Doctor, who was still rambling about the planet.

"Uninhabited, 'cept for a few lower life forms, birds and wildcats 'n stuff," he continued, staring around at the trees.

"Are any of them dangerous?" Rose inquired.

"Nah, not really. They don't really mind us," The Doctor reassured.

"If they're aliens, how can the be birds and wildcats or whatever?" I piped up. "Like, birds and wildcats come from Earth, so wouldn't they be completely different things here?"

"They aren't actually _called_ what people from Earth would call them," the Doctor sighed "it's just what they look similar to on Earth."

"Ah."

"Come on then!" Rose had gotten over the initial awe enough to be excited. "Exploring an alien planet!" She skipped forward to loop her arm through the Doctor's and they made their way towards a gap in the lush foliage.

I smiled and started to follow, only to freeze when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye; but when I turned towards it, there were only leaves fluttering gently in the warm breeze. The hairs at the back of my neck tingled. I shivered and scrambled after my companions, trying to hide how hurried my steps were.

. . .

The planet was beautiful. The lush trees periodically broke into glorious clearings and fields, revealing crystal blue waterways and ponds.

The Doctor had been right to mention the alien birds, because they were everywhere, small, noisy, and alarming shades of pink and blue. They swooped at us from under bushes like screaming neon softballs. Rose and I ducked and dodged around them while the Doctor simply laughed. Or, at least until they got their revenge, which came in the form of a yellow liquid smear that dropped down from the trees overhead to splatter on the Timelord's shoulder. Then it was Rose and I who were laughing, and the birds seemed to be cackling along with us.

We escaped the aerial assaults by ducking into a spacious clearing. A beautiful, sparkling lake stretched out across, roughly the size of two football fields and surrounded by sand and even more extremely green grass.

Rose and I made a beeline for the water, where she removed her shoes to wade in while I sat down in the sun-warmed sand. A still-sulking Doctor slumped down beside me, where he attempted to wipe the splatter off of his jacket with a fistful of grass.

"There's fish!" Rose announced from her ankle-deep position.

"Of course there's fish," the Doctor retorted moodily. "If there's non-acidic water, there's usually someone in it."

Rose responded with an equally moody comment, which was then turned into a bickering ping-pong match.

I rolled my eyes at their antics and stood up. I stretched and began exploring the surrounding area. I walked a short distance along the treeline, careful to keep the Doctor and Rose in my peripheral vision. I smirked when Rose playfully kicked water at him, causing him to throw his wad of alien bird poo grass at her.

Then I froze. The warm spring like air suddenly seemed cold as the same anxious vibe that I had felt back at the TARDIS crept back up my spine.

I stood stock-still and listened keenly. Sounds of the Doctor and Rose's laughter filtered back to me, accompanied by the twittering of birds and the pounding of my own heart in my ears.

The tense tingling exploded into a flash of fear. I kept facing straight ahead, staring at the line between thick grass and dense forest while listening to the movement of something creeping through the trees, behind me but off to the side so that it could watch while remaining hidden by the foliage.

My mind raced for an explanation as it edged closer. Whatever it was, it was big. I didn't know what kind of fauna to expect on this world, but it moved smoothly through the undergrowth, without tripping or stumbling, something that had been impossible for me on the way to the lake.

But it was heavy. Two legs. All of its weight on two points.

My hands trembled as the unknown creature leveled with me.

So close that the leaves near my face trembled.

Warm breath tickled my ear.

I forced my hands to stop shaking and took a deep breath.

I turned to look into large, dark magenta eyes.

 _ **SO that's that part of this adventure... like I said, hopefully the rest will follow in the next couple days. So tell me what you think!**_

 _ **Also, I am trying to figure out what nickname Monet will give Nine. 10 and 11's are both based on their sense of style... but 'Leather Jacket' doesn't have a nice ring to it. Nor does 'Leather'. So I'm taking ideas. Halp.**_


	21. Unicorns

_**Chapter Twenty One: Unicorns**_

The magenta eyes stared into my grey ones out from a pale, china doll face. Her face was rimmed with cotton candy blue hair styled in a perfectly straight bob. Though the striking shade of blue was NOT the most alarming thing about her… I would have to award that to the single, magenta protrusion extending from the center of her forehead.

A horn.

Not an antler.

A dark pink horn that twisted into a point.

Like a unicorn.

We stood there blinking at each other for what felt like years, neither daring to breathe, let alone move. She was short, the top of her head barely coming level with my nose, and skittish. Once I had gotten over my initial shock, I could see that she was trembling as bad as I had been moments before, and how her eyes glittered with fear.

I gave her a shaky smile, which she cautiously returned. I had to hand it to her, despite her obvious terror, I could see the curiosity behind it.

The unicorn-girl carefully reached out to me with a trembling hand, painfully slow, as if she were trying to befriend a rabbit, as if I'd bolt if she moved too quickly. Or maybe she felt like the rabbit, cautiously taking a leap of faith and trusting the person that was offering a carrot.

When her hand was fully extended, I mimicked the gesture, down to the painfully slow speed. Even then, her hand trembled and I could see the doubt flicker across her face. But she maintained her resolve and a few seconds later her silky fingers brushed against mine.

"Hello," I whispered softly.

The girl's hand slipped more firmly into mine. "Hello," she echoed, her voice barely audible.

My smile widened and I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm Monet."

Her eyes flickered over my shoulder to where the Doctor and Rose were still goofing off by the water, completely oblivious to what I was doing.

"Don't mind them," I murmured reassuringly, still afraid of raising my voice above a whisper. "They won't hurt you. We're nice."

"Alpherina," she murmured suddenly.

I had to blink at her for a second before I understood that she had just told me her name.

"Hello, Alpherina." I smiled happily and gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. She returned the smile. "Where did you come from?"

She cast a half glance over her shoulder. "We live here."

On que, several other unicorn-people emerged behind her, close enough to be seen while remaining at a safe distance. They all sported the same candy blue bob and pink horn, along with similar outfits: barefoot, skin tight pants, the two females in strapless bikini tops, the one male shirtless, all candy blue to match their hair.

Then it dawned on me. They were native here. First contact. Instead of charging out to meet us full force, they had watched, waited, and followed until they had reason to believe we weren't hostile. Then they'd sent a single, non threatening female to interact with another single, non threatening female.

I shot a glance back over my shoulder at my friends before returning my gaze back to Alpherina and her friends, silently asking permission to call the Doctor and Rose over. Alpherina gave the barest of nods.

"Doctor!" I called just loud enough for my voice to carry over to him, and even then, Alpherina's hand started trembling again. I squeezed her fingers again and held her gaze, trying to communicate my good intentions to her.

"What?" The Doctor loudly shouted back, causing Alpherina and the male behind her to flinch.

Sound sensitive?

It occured to me that he couldn't see Alpherina from his angle, but I didn't dare call back. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from shouting ' _get your ass over here now!',_ since I doubted that the skittish people would respond well to it. Instead, I kept my eyes on Alpherina and hoped my body language would be enough to draw the Timelord over.

It was. I heard his shoes shift around in the sand as he stood.

"What is it?" His voice came again, closer this time. I could hear his footsteps in the grass.

Not taking my eyes away from the girl in front of me, I muttered cooly, "I thought you said that this planet was uninhabited."

"It is…" His voice trailed off as he brushed around my shoulder and his eyes settled on Alpherina. "Oh, hello!"

Alpherina winced.

I elbowed the Timelord in the chest. "Volume!" I hissed.

"Right, sorry," the Doctor apologized in a much softer tone. He rubbed his chest ruefully. "Who's your friend?"

"Alpherina" I informed him.

"Hello, Alpherina." The Doctor offered her one of his trademark grins and a rough, calloused hand. "I'm the Doctor."

The girl carefully dropped my hand and took his with a hesitant smile. Her gaze flickered past us to Rose, who had ambled up behind us to look on curiously.

"Rose," the blonde offered warily.

"You lot live here, then?" The Doctor prompted Alpherina, his eyes flickering to the other people behind her. "You evolved here? You're native to this world?"

Alpherina nodded.

"That can't be right," the Doctor protested, forehead furrowed in confusion, "the Shadow Proclamation records don't mention intelligent lifeforms. You should've been catalogued."

"We do not know of this Proclamation of Shadows," Alpherina insisted, more confident now that none of our trio appeared aggressive. "Large shiny mountains came from the sky, carrying people inside. They were loud. So much noise. Our people hid and watched. They searched our lands, but never found us. We thought they would leave, but they stay."

The Doctor's face softened with concern. "Spaceships," he said, mostly to Rose and I, "they came to this planet looking for intelligent lifeforms, but they couldn't find anyone."

"Couldn't they, you know, run scans or something?" Rose inquired.

"Might not show up on scanners," the Doctor frowned. "If they're researchers, it would be illegal to interact with a developing species, especially one that doesn't have a concept of 'space' and 'spaceships' yet."

"They stay and destroy," Alpherina insisted, urgency creeping into her voice. "They eat our lands. The forest is dying. Please, will you help?"

The Doctor's grip on her hand tightened and his face turned dark and serious. "Yes."

Alpherina slipped away from his grip to glide back into the forest. "Come."

The Doctor didn't hesitate to follow. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and strode off purposefully behind the unicorn-people, leaving Rose and I to trail behind.

Instead of birds, this walk was shadowed by the Alpherina's people. They flitted in and out of sight between the trees, ghosting behind bushes and vines, the odd tell-tale flash of porcelain skin the only indication that they were there at all, accompanied by the odd flicker of magenta eyes, a flash of blue, or a pink horn jutting awkwardly out of a shrub.

"Unicorns, though," Rose whispered, a grin crossing her features as her eyes tracked the progress of a candy-blue bob of hair that gave away the hiding spot of one of the aliens.

I giggled. "Unicorns."

 _ **.**_

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

* * *

 _ **Hey Guys! Guess who's back! Well, I've been writing, just not on this story. I'm bad about obsessing over one story at a time and then burning myself out with it. Hopefully I can get back to working on this one.**_

 _ **And If you haven't already, check out my other story Buffy: The Space-Time Anomaly Slayer**_

 _ **Don't forget to leave a review!**_


	22. And Other Mythical Beasts

_**.**_

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

 **Chapter Twenty Two: And Other Mythical Beasts**

 **~0~0~0~**

 **.**

The Doctor stayed silent the duration of the walk. He stared straight ahead, marching forward stiffly, evidently lost in thought. I stared at his leather-clad back, trying to figure out how bad the situation could actually be.

Suddenly he stopped. I trotted around to his side, closely followed by Rose. I stopped at the edge of the cliff in time, but Rose wasn't so lucky. The blonde walked straight in between the Doctor and I, took one step too many, and started skidding down the edge. Luckily, since she was between us, we both managed to snag onto each of her windmilling arms.

"Blimey," Rose gasped, scrabbling backwards so she was on solid ground. "Thanks."

I patted her back reassuringly before redirecting my attention to the view before us, or should I say, below us.

The land beyond the cliff face was flat. Completely flat. The textured blanket of trees stretching out to meet the pale pink horizon. The only thing that was distinctly out of place was the great big towering ships looming out of the sea of blue green leaves, shining silver pyramids gleaming in the alien sun.

"Any idea who they are?" I asked the Doctor without turning to look at him.

"They aren't anthropologists, that's for sure," the Doctor mused. "Something official like that would never destroy so much of the natural environment to study it. No. It's a business of some sort, or maybe a colony."

"So what do we do?" Rose asked. "Just pop by and tell them to leave?"

"Maybe," the Doctor murmured. "Might not be that simple. Come on."

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

The trek down the cliff face wasn't as difficult as I had imagined it would be. The Doctor was strangely good at picking out a path. He reassured us repeatedly that as long as Rose and I stepped exactly where he stepped, we were completely fine. I wasn't convinced, but I went along with it anyway.

Somehow we made it down without, you know, plunging to our deaths. Though the Doctor did his level best at giving Rose and I joint heart attacks. Twice the Time Lord skidded precariously on the steep incline, once scrabbling desperately at the rocks and undergrowth for a handhold. Thankfully he came away and made it to the bottom of the cliff with only slightly skinned hands and, even worse, a severely bruised pride.

Rose teased him a bit, but I simply shoved my hands in my pockets and let him lead the way through the dense jungle without comment.

After a solid fifteen minutes of sweaty walking, we finally reached the clearings where the silver pyramids-mountains-spaceships stood. They just sat there, hulking over the surrounding topography.

"Now what?" I asked, wiping the sweat off my forehead with my sleeve.

The Doctor grinned up at the silver mounds with a sort of solemn glee. He wasn't even sweating, the bastard. "Go talk to the squatters about rent."

I sighed, tugging at my shirt uncomfortably. "And how do we do that?"

No sooner than the words had left my mouth, there was a sound of a blaring comically old fashioned sounding alarm. The noise echoed throughout the artificial mountains like they were actual ones, resounding loudly in a faint sort of way that suggested they were originating from within the mountains - erm - ships, themselves.

The Doctor only smiled as a handful of guards, all of which were carrying guns, came running out of the nearest ship.

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

"And the conclusions are ridiculous!" We were in an office, high in the center pyramid, and we were being yelled at. "So _before_ I have you arrested for trespassing, espionage, _and_ landing without a permit, tell me who you work for!"

The Doctor stared down the tall, lanky man. The Time Lord wasn't remotely impressed by the man's aggressive display, and wasn't afraid to show it. "I told you, we don't work for anyone. Just a few concerned tourists passing through."

"If I believed that, I would be fired on the spot!" The alien spat, stalking back over to his desk, which was situated in front of a large window, and plopping down into the chair with his unusually long arms crossed.

"Alright, so you get fired. But from what, exactly?" The Doctor inquired, plastering on an easy grin that was just a bit too wide and showed too much teeth to be genuinely friendly.

"Jubilation Trite Resort, Co." The boss-guy said moodily, tapping his fingernails on the desk impatiently.

"Resort?" I echoed, studying the various forms of obscure art that decorated the walls. Impressionism. Not bad. "We just passed through a hell of a lot of security for a resort.""

"You three, my dear, are a prime example of _why_ that security is necessary," the man grumbled.

"Sorry," Rose piped up from where she stood leaning against a filing cabinet. "But what was your name, again?"

"Marcon," the man sniffed. "Marcon Faux. Director of Project Crystalline."

"Yes, very impressive," the Doctor sighed, "But Monet said it. That was a lot of security for a hotel. Especially one that's on a planet where the biggest threat is the size of a large house cat." The Doctor studied Marcon carefully, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Right?"

Marcon shifted uncomfortably. "There were some... unexpected setbacks."

"Setbacks? You mean the native people living in your backyard? Or actually, you're living in their backyard, aren't ya?" The Doctor grinned cheekily and dangled the psychic paper in front of the other man's eyes. I couldn't see what it said, but Marcon visibly blanched. "Now's your chance to break it all down, explain it while we're still listening. Cos if and when we report this, it would look a hell of a lot better if we knew how something like this could happen, wouldn't it?"

Marcon Faux glared at the Doctor for a moment, clearly debating on his best course of action. "We didn't know about the native lifeforms," he admitted slowly. "They didn't show up on the scanners when this planet was originally surveyed. Corporate got the all clear, and we came in to build. It wasn't until a month in that they started to make contact."

"And how did they do that?" Rose asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Things began going missing. Wires were cut. Fruit left in neat little piles at the edge of the forest. Alarms went off in the middle of the night, that sort of thing. It was weeks before anyone actually saw one."

"So it's all alright, then?" Rose prompted. "It wasn't your lot's fault, it was an honest mistake. You can just pack up and go."

"It's not that simple, Rose," the Doctor said, still eyeing Macron. "The Shadow Proclamation makes room for mistakes, but they didn't report it right off as soon as they knew something was wrong. By now it's punishable by law."

"So why didn't you?" I asked, turning away from a painting that looked vaguely like a man with three legs walking into a green sunset.

"For profit," the Doctor answered, sounding rather peeved. "This has the potential for being one of the best pleasure planets this side of the galaxy. Nice weather. Lovely views. So no one minded when your business swooped in to claim it. There were a few questionable encounters, probably some dealing under the table to get the surveyors to make a few shortcuts. You lot poured a ton of money into this place. You got a big promotion to look after it. So now that something's got in the way, it's just better to sweep it all under the table." The Doctor grinned. "Did I miss anything?"

Macron didn't respond. He just glared hatefully at the Doctor, making it all too clear that the Time Lord had hit the nail on the head.

"Take them away," Macron ordered his guards, who had been hovering silently in the door throughout the whole encounter.

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

We ended up locked in a supply closet, along with a few mops and brooms. The Doctor was pacing in front of the door, clearly annoyed, while Rose began poking through the various items inside the closet and I sat on the floor. My ribs were starting to bother me again. Not seriously, but some of the bruised muscles were starting to ache after the long walk through the jungle.

"Now what?" I asked for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

"Are we gonna tell on them?" Rose asked, peering into a paint can. "Report them or whatever?"

"Basically, yeah," the Doctor hummed. "This is more of a law enforcement problem than the things we usually do. If we get the word out, we can move on."

"Okay. That's simple." Rose said, looking slightly surprised and pleased. "Wow, that's something I haven't said before, in relation to you, anyway."

"But it's not," I pointed out. "Because just reporting it isn't enough. They could just pay to get it ignored or whatever. Especially when they find out that we aren't really whoever that guy thought we were. False claims get swept under the rug."

The Doctor nodded, still thinking. "She's right, we need evidence. Undeniable proof that the people here exist, and that Jubilation Co. has been covering it up, so it doesn't happen again."

"Can't we just, you know, take a picture or something?"

"No. It has to be something that won't damage the people here anymore than they already have been."

"Would there be something in their computer systems?" I inquired. "They have to have documented them somehow."

"Precisely." The Doctor pulled out his screwdriver and twirled it. "Thankfully, our guards are hotel security, an' they left three minutes ago. Not to mention my excellent door picking skills."

"Is it really a skill if you use the sonic?" I snorted. "And you're saying that we could've been out of here for _three whole minutes_?"

"We aren't in that much of a hurry," the Doctor said defensively as the lock clicked open. Then, we all carefully made our way through the lush pyramid.

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

Things went south after that, something I was beginning to expect was the norm.

I wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but from what I understood, it started out with the guards coming back and noticing we were gone. They chased us. We all got separated.

From the schematic I had seen, there were five pyramids. The four outer ones would eventually be for the residents, and the main one, which was the one we were in, was the control hub, which was where all the information was stored.

I was running through the halls, phone to my ear, listening to the Doctor give directions on the other end. Evidently, he had found the main computer core, but had then been captured, again. That had been followed by a series of events that I didn't understand, nor did I really want to, that ended up with Macron deciding to send the central building into meltdown mode. This was bad for several reasons. The first, and most obvious, was that I was still in the building. Rose and the Doctor were outside, but couldn't get back in. The second reason was that if the control hub melted down, then all of the data would be lost. That was probably why Macron decided to destroy the place, but I wasn't in the mood to jump to conclusions.

"At junction 13-B!" I panted, skidding to a stop before I hit the wall.

"Left. Second door on the right." The Doctor sounded worried. The clock was ticking. There were five minutes left until thermal plates in the walls of each floor of the building began charging, which would literally cause the metal structure to melt. Hence the use of the term 'meltdown'. "There's a console on the far wall. All the data should already be pulled up, all you have to do is transmit it."

"I'm here!" I informed. The console was something like a sci-fi ATM, glowing and green with a keyboard jutting from the front. The data that that Doctor had retrieved from the core was still displayed. I caught glimpses of diagrams and reports, but didn't actually read any of them. "The info is all here. How do I send it?"

I braced the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I typed, as per the Doctor's instructions. Within moments, a loading bar scrawled across the screen.

 _ **5%. 10%. 15%.**_

 _ **Error: Transmitter Malfunction. Seek Engineering Support.**_

"It's not working!" I snapped. "Transmitter Malfunction!"

"Forget it!" The Doctor instructed. "Two minutes left. Just get out! It's not worth it. We'll find another way."

"Okay," I sighed in frustration. "On my way."

"Can you remember the way back?"

"Yeah." I hung up and slipped the phone back into my pocket. I had halfway jogged across the room when an idea crossed my mind.

I jogged back to the console to make sure I had seen what I thought I saw. Two small data ports, just at the bottom of the screen. They looked familiar. Very familiar.

I groaned and reached into my pocket. "I swear to God, if this is stupid enough to work…"

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

The Doctor watched in horror as the edges of the central pyramid began to glow red and orange as metal began to be exposed to intense heat, brightening up the darkened sky like dawn. The building began to warp and drip as the patches of molten steel began to spread. Within seconds, the peak of the building began to sink into the base.

"Where is she?" Rose demanded, the glow reflecting weirdly in her frightened eyes.

The Doctor dialed Monet's number again. It rang twice, but went to voicemail. He tried again, and got the same result.

"She's not answering," the Doctor growled, dialing for a third time.

"What if she got lost?" Rose worried. "It's a big building…"

Something terrible settled into the Doctor's gut, something that twisted horribly in his stomach and clenched tightly in his chest. "I'm going to look for her."

Rose grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "Don't be daft. You'd never make it!"

"I can't just leave her!" He snapped, whirling around to face her. Rose was taken aback by the expression on his face, by the desperation and loneliness. "Think about what I could lose if she dies!"

"Common sense, or a entire library of movie references?" A snarky voice sounded from over his shoulder. The Doctor whirled around to see Monet, standing with her hands on her hips. She was sweaty, hair frizzy and wild, but smug as ever. "Chill out, you dramatic fuckers. I might not be an alien genius, but I know when it's time to bail."

Relief flooded the Doctor's face, as well as a bit of embarrassment, which he tried to hide with irritation. "What the hell took so long? I told you to get out!"

Monet stared coolly into the fuming Time Lord's face. "I didn't just want to leave it. Not after all the effort I'd put into it."

"Bloody hell, it was just _files_ , Monet! No one's life was on the line! The universe wasn't ending! It wouldn't 'ave made a bit of difference even if you'd gotten the files. It sure as hell wasn't worth _dying_ for!"

"Who said I didn't get it?" Monet sniffed, looking down her nose at the alien.

The Doctor blinked in surprise. "You said the transmitter malfunctioned?"

"It did."

Monet held up a small object. It was small, green, and rubbery.

A turtle flash drive.

"You downloaded the data?" The Doctor concluded with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah. Well, I think so, anyway. It _acted_ like it was downloading it, but I guess we'll have to check to be sure. Why the hell are alien computers hundreds of years in the future compatible with a twenty-first century thumb drive? That seems stupid and counterproductive."

"It is." The Doctor agreed and plucked the turtle from her grasp to study it. Then he grinned. "Fantastic!"

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

From there, it was smooth sailing. After a rather long trek back through the jungle, in the dark, I might add, to the TARDIS, the Doctor was able to confirm that the evidence we needed _was_ more or less stored on my flash drive. As in, I'd only had time to download somewhere around half of the data, but the Doctor assured Rose and I that it was more than enough to be damning.

The Doctor transmitted the data through the TARDIS attached to a complaint. He straightened up

"That's it?" Rose asked, once again surprised by how relatively easy the day had been.

"That's it!" The Doctor confirmed. "The Shadow Proclamation will process the data. We can pop back in a few weeks to check on their progress, but usually they're pretty quick about it."

"Usually there's more… running involved." Rose sniffed, slightly disappointed.

"Speak for yourself," I scoffed, trying to regain some control of my hair, which had bristled out in every direction in the heat of the melting building.

Rose offered a warm smile. "Suppose. You sure you're alright?"

I returned it, though my eyes trailed the Doctor as he fiddled with the console, lost in his own thoughts. "Course. Lightly toasted. But I think I'll live."

The Doctor sighed and shook his head, then became absorbed in setting the TARDIS into motion.

While he was distracted, Rose gave my shoulder a nudge.

I furrowed my brow at her. _What?_

She jerked her head at the Time Lord, whose back was currently to us. _Talk to him._

I frowned. _Why?_

She widened her eyes for emphasis and gestured at the Doctor once more. _Just do it!_

Before I could reply, the TARDIS began its usual routine of throwing us around, therefore ending our ability to communicate silently.

"Where are we going?" Rose asked, managing to snag onto the console.

"Dunno!" The Doctor announced with a grin. "I've set it to random."

"Someplace slightly, cooler, hopefully," I grinned, latching onto the console on the other side of Rose.

When the TARDIS landed, Rose quickly made herself scarce, explaining that she wanted to change. She gave me a pointed look before vanishing into the depths of the TARDIS, which made her reasoning more than obvious.

We were left in silence. I settled down in the jumpseat, watching the Doctor toy with buttons and levers.

After a moment, I piped up, "Penny for your thoughts."

The Doctor scoffed, "What good's a penny?"

"Don't say that," I teased. "My best friend's name is Penny."

" _Obviously_ , I meant the coin."

"I didn't," I deadpanned. "I was going to bring you the _actual_ Penny. Leave her in a box at your doorstep with a bow on her head. She's nice enough. House trained, mostly. But watch out, she bites."

The Doctor frowned. "Penny is a dog?"

" _No_ ," I scoffed, " _Vader_ is my dog. Penny is my _human_ friend."

"Don't describe her like that, then. It's misleading."

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but then I realized that he understood perfectly, but was electing to ignore my sarcasm. I frowned and glared at him moodily.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and went back to ignoring me. I silently cursed Rose. There was _no_ point to this. What had she expected, exactly?

I sighed through my nose and rubbed at the tender flesh that spanned my ribs when the muscles twinged. Hopefully she would be back soon.

"Is it still hurting?" The Doctor inquired. I looked up to see that he had been watching me from across the console.

I shrugged. "Not really. Just a bit sore."

"Do you want to take a break?" He offered kindly, before adding, "I know how fragile humans are. Don't want to run you into the ground."

I scowled at him. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Rubbish."

I gave him surprised look.

"That's twice in two days that you've almost died," The Doctor scolded, covering up for his moment of unchecked concern.

"You're exaggerating," I chided, "on both accounts."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Are you always this careless?"

"No idea," I beamed back at him. "Can't wait to find out."

The Doctor heaved a long suffering sigh. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing, staring into the Time Rotor with feigned interest.

We lapsed back into silence. Rose was taking forever.

Now that I thought about it, there was something nagging me. Something that the Doctor had said, when I had been hurrying up behind them as the pyramid toppled.

"What did you mean, 'what you could lose' if something happened to me?" I knew it was a bold question, but I felt that it was the one I was supposed to ask.

The Doctor drew a sharp breath. He buried his hands into his jacket pockets and eyed the toe of his boots. "You heard that?"

"Yeah." I was starting to regret asking. Things were already strange between us as it was. "Though, there was a lot going on. I could've misheard."

"Maybe."

I waited for him so say more, but he didn't.

 _ **~0~0~0~**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

 _ **Guess who's not dead! Sorry, to those that are still reading this. I kinda lost interest in this story and have been working off and on on other fics. I decided to work on it again after I finally reread it after forever, and holy crap, I'd forgotten how cheesy my earlier writing can be. Not to say that my current writing ISN'T cheesy, but my style has changed a lot since I started on this story. I was almost tempted to go back and rewrite it, but then I realized that I have better things to do with my time.**_

 _ **Yes, this chapter was short and rushed. But I just had to get it finished. If I didn't just go ahead and get it out, I would never have gotten past it. So MAYBE, I'll be able to actually work on this again. No promises, but I'm going to try.**_

 _ **Special thanks to all of ya'll that reviewed! It's what got me to work on this one again!**_


End file.
